Like We Used To
by Reuben deFlash
Summary: MSA is in financial jeopardy; the students must stage a benefits concert and a figure from Director Collins' past comes to help secure a benefactor. R&R PLEASE!
1. The Task At Hand

Chapter 1 – The Task At Hand

Blake Collins shifted nervously from one foot to the other in an attempt to relax his tense body. It was wound up, every muscle ready to spring and he knew it was going to take at least an hour in the studio to bring him down. He hated meetings with the board of governors. Thankfully, they weren't regular occurrences. Unfortunately, however, their infrequency meant that something wasn't right and Blake might have to pay the price for that.

He could hear the slid of a chair across the floor and footsteps coming to usher him inside. He tried to relax his shoulders but to no avail, and the nervousness was obvious on his frame. A short middle aged woman with cropped, dark hair opened the door and smiled at him. "Director Collins," she said warmly. "We're ready for you now."

Blake had taken the job as Director of the Maryland School of the Arts little over a year and a half ago as a favour to an old dancing friend from New York. Director Gordon had gotten pregnant after so many years of trying and as much as she loved the school (it had been her child after all), she had to say goodbye and the opportunity of a lifetime found its way into Blake Collins' life. He was young, much younger than most before him, and inexperienced but he had a smart head on his shoulders and he was a damn good dancer; amongst the students of MSA, he was a legend.

He forgot all those things – smart head, good dancer, and head of a school – in front of the governors.

"Have a seat Blake," Matthew Rotherway said not looking at him. Rotherway was a forty-something dance critic and a little rough in his behaviour towards others but he had a sharp eye and never lied. Blake quite liked him. Margaret Blincher, on the other hand, sat on Matthew's left and he was _very_ afraid of her. She was thin and wiry and resembled a wasp. Her tongue could be like a stinger too. But she had a great reputation amongst the kids at MSA, being one of the older students' mothers, and she understood them too. The woman who had let him in was Susan Wakefield and she reminded him ever so much of his Grandmother. Except his Grandmother never rode a motorcycle.

"Collins," was how Margaret began. "We have a situation and it has now become necessary for us to make it known to you." He knew it. "As you've probably noticed, Jerry isn't here."

He hadn't but now he looked at the empty chair beside Susan, Blake's mind began to wonder. Why wasn't Jerry here? In all his thirty years as governor, Jerry Cosby had never missed a governor's meeting.

"Where is Jerry?" he asked timidly, frowning with curiosity.

"He died."

Blake's eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his cheek. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, heart attack. Crazy! The man never ate anything but salad and salmon," Matthew interjected looking at Margaret.

"The point is, Blake," said Margaret bluntly, for she was always to the point, "is that we have lost a substantial amount of money from his death. He was, as _we_ all are, a great benefactor of the school. He was one of the reasons students can come here for reduced fees, or on scholarships."

"The school isn't pulling in a lot of money, and we are losing it fast," Susan added sadly.

Something clicked in Blake's mind. "Are you…firing me?"

They all laughed simultaneously. "Good heavens, Blake," Matthew mused, "Why would we do a thing like that?"

"No, no, you're far too valuable to the school. An asset," Margaret said, still smiling. Blake felt his shoulders relax slightly.

"No, we just need you to think of a solution."

A solution to the hole in the bucket that was MSA? How to stop them losing money and to possibly gain it? In steady monthly payments preferably.

"We'd need another benefactor, surely," Blake suggested.

They nodded.

"How though?" Blake frowned. "Who?"

There was silence. Matthew pushed his glasses up his nose and shrugged. "We were hoping you could come up with that…"

…_smart head, good dancer, and head of the school…_

"Well, you could hold a benefits concert, and ask people to donate or become benefactors. But that, well, that feels a little like charity…" he began trying to sound clear.

"We are a charity case now, I'm afraid, dear boy," Matthew sighed. "We are beggars. And they can't be choosers so I'm told."

Had it really come to this? How could he not have known that the school was in this much trouble? He nodded numbly. ""I'll begin straight away. It'll be…_the_...most important thing in my life."

"We know that Blake," Margaret said shuffling some paper. "You're dedicated. Far more dedicated than any other man I've met."

"And you love MSA as much as we do," Susan added, "which is why you won't let us down."

"You can decide the date and venue and material, just do us proud."

Blake nodded and left the room without another word. The weight of the task facing him was enormous. He began to loosen his tie. It was going to take at least two hours in the studio to relax him now.


	2. Rallying The Troops

Chapter 2 – Rallying The Troops

Andie smiled as she watched Chase do an arabesque. "Ha, you almost looked like your brother there, fancy pants." He stopped and gave her a cocky grin in return, pulling his hat off as he walked across the dance studio. "You think you're so clever now Big Bro let you back into school, but we all know that you're just a deviant Sunshine."

His wide grin told her he was teasing her, but it still annoyed her that he could get away with being so downright cocky. She gave him a light kick in the ankle, to which he cried out in mock-pain. Crouching down and sitting beside her, he planted a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth and grinned once more. She ignored him and scooped her hair up into a ponytail. She'd taken to wearing it down more often nowadays.

"Does anyone know why we're here?" Moose suddenly asked. He had been leaning against a mirrored wall but now he was pacing. "Collins just told you guys to come?"

"My brother asked me to tell Andie and whoever I could find that we needed to meet here after final class today," Chase said rolling his eyes. "Chillax, Moose."

But still he kept pacing.

They were all beginning their final year at MSA, much to Andie's distress. Although it had taken her so long to get there, now she was there the idea of leaving broke her heart. She had friends now, real friends who kept her up when she felt low and helped improve her dancing. Even Collins was growing more and more impressed with her capacity for learning new dance moves. Although ballet didn't come easily (it was far too difficult for her body to move in such a graceful way all the time with no angles or jutting), she worked damn hard at it and was half way to becoming…kind of ok. Even if she did say so herself.

Director Collins broke their chatter when he opened the door to the studio wearing dance sweats but no ballet shoes. His face looked grave, and Moose whimpered. Sophie touched the curly haired boy's leg and asked him to sit down, and immediately her words seemed to comfort him. "He's booting us out," Moose whispered. "Ssh!" they all said.

Blake gave a weak smile. "Thank you all for coming." He paused. "I have a favour to ask you, and as older students I am trusting you with information that shouldn't really be disclosed to the student populace. However, due to the nature of the favour I'm asking, it's impossible not to, so I hope that you will respect my faith in you and keep it quiet."

There was a low murmur of intrigue and a few nods form the final years.

It took all of ten minutes to explain the situation to them but Blake had to watch every single one of their faces fall as he did so. Especially Andie's. Although they would be leaving, it was more about there not being an MSA for future generations. That mattered to Andie, he could tell. After all. This was the lifeline that pulled her out of a very lonely place.

"A benefit concert should be easy enough, but it'll have to be something special," mused Sophie, her fingers linked with Moose's. Blake nodded. "It will have to be phenomenal. It's a big commitment."

"It won't be so bad a commitment, if we use it as our showcase too." Chase suggested. Blake raised an eyebrow; he hadn't thought of that. "Well, I was going to say that you can't donate more time to this than your final showcase, but that would tie everything up neatly…" He paused. "Is that a selfish thing for me to ask you to do?"

They all shook their heads. "We love MSA," Chase scoffed. "Nothing's too big a favour."

Andie clapped her hands together and rose to her feet. "Well, can we get on with this then? Because all this peppy school spirit stuff is making me wanna vomit and as we all know, the best cure for everything is dancing."

********

Blake picked up the receiver on the third ring. "Hello," he said whilst turning the page of an essay. "Blake Collins speaking."

"It's Margaret; how's it going?"

"I have some reliable final years on board, who can rope in others. They're terrific dancers."

"I don't doubt it." A pause on the line and then a crackle. "Daunting task though."

"Tell me about it," Blake laughed weakly, picking up a pen and ticking a paragraph. "But, I'm on the case like I said."

"Hmmm." Another pause. "We'll talk soon."

She didn't even say goodbye. She just placed the receiver back down at her end and let Blake hand there in mid air for a moment.


	3. The Reinforcement

Chapter 3 – The Reinforcement

Blake was despairing. It had been two weeks and they had not come up with a single solid theme or idea that could run through the concert, although the crew had managed to gather up more students to be involved. Everyone was drawing a blank, and until they began to think about a theme, the choreography wouldn't slip into place.

It was a Tuesday after final class when there was a knock on the studio door and Margaret and Matthew slipped into the room. The students had only just begun stretching and as soon as he spotted them, Blake turned and went to greet them. "Starting work already I see?" Matthew smiled looking around at the young adults. Andie looked up and gave the man a grin. "I take it _that one_ is Andie."

"Um, yes sir." Matthew nodded and smiled. "I've been hearing only good things about her."

"She be pleased to hear it," Blake retorted nervously. He paused. "Can I help you? Or is this just a friendly visit?" He was shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other again and this time, he could feel it, he could feel something was going on. He kept his face calm and controlled, only frowning slightly.

"Well, no," Margaret said, suddenly look less like a wasp and more sheepish, "We made an executive decision to hire another Director."

Blake went to say something but clenched his jaw instead. He paused. "What?"

"Well, with you trying to do so much, we don't want you going the same way as Jerry," Matthew laughed sadly.

"I don't think I need anyone else…"

"We're looking out for your well-being Director Collins," Margaret said curtly asserting her authority.

He inhaled deeply. "Very well; but I would like to be heavily involved in the application process and the interviewing stages…what?" He had looked at their faces. Matthew was looking at Margaret and she refused to look at Blake. She was looking at her feet. The entire class had stopped to witness the spectacle.

"The thing is, we already hired someone."

In that instant, Blake felt powerless. It was his school and they had brought someone in without his say so. He ran a tight ship; nothing went badly, his students and staff were happy and he was well accustomed to splitting himself equally amongst tasks. "Who?" he managed to say, quietly so the anger didn't escape through his throat.

"I'll call her in," Margaret said, hurrying to the door. Blake looked in the opposite direction into the mirrors barely registering that the new director was a woman. He put his hands on his hips, hung his head and closed his eyes. Andie, Chase, Moose and Sophie all moved a little closer, standing in relaxed positions, trying to decipher the situation. The door to the studio shut unexpectedly, making Blake open his eyes and look directly into the mirror.

And then he saw her.

Now, oh, now he could see why the two governors had been acting so sheepish and elusive. He turned on his heels to face her. She looked no older than she did seven years ago and the instant pride and anger that bubbled up under his skin hadn't quietened after all it seemed. Chase saw her, and recognised her too, and his understanding made him turn away looking at his trainers as he did so. Andie was too awestruck to ask him. Blake folded his arms and stared at her.

"You know Alex Hale," Matthew said quietly, gently bringing the woman forward by pressing his hand on the small of her back. The woman herself had not taken her eyes of Blake Collins and was trying to gage his reaction before she spoke to him. His jaw was tight she could see and his arms said _get away from me_.

"Yes," he managed, slightly breaking an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, she's the new director."

"I'd guessed." He paused and then stuck a hand out to shake Alex's. She took it immediately but let go very quickly.

"Hello, Blake," she said.

Margaret slipped in beside Blake, who was still staring at Alex. "We expect you to cooperate fully. She begins tomorrow morning." She paused. "Understand?"

"Yes," Blake said, suddenly unfolding his arms and moving across the studio floor. "Perfectly. See you at half eight for a faculty meeting," he directed at Alex as he switched off the stereo at the wall. He caught her eye. "We'll introduce you to the staff then."

Alex Hale nodded and smiled to the students before turning and exiting the dance studio. The governors followed after her, thanking Blake for being so cooperative. The students hung back unsure what to say or do. He seemed to have stopped, leaning on the stereo for support. After a few moments, he snapped back and turned to them. "Go home," he said, trying to be cheerful. "We won't get anything done tonight."

They filed out, one after the other, not daring to whisper about the strange situation they had witness. Chase stayed behind and placed a hand on his brother's back. "You ok, Blake?"

Director Collins paused and stood up straight before shaking his head, patting Chase's back and walking away to his office.


	4. Hale and Collins

Chapter 4 – Hale and Collins

Blake had not slept.

He had thought of nothing all night but the fact that Alexandra Hale was back in his life, and ultimately working with him once again.

It made him sick. It made him angry. It made him ache.

He couldn't decide whether happiness came into it yet.

*******

Andie slipped into a seat next to Chase and touched his arm gently. He looked thoughtful but gave her a glimpse of her favourite smile to show her he was still with it. Moose and Sophie were deep in conversation, and she was laughing at his jokes. Andie grinned and turned her body to Chase. "So, you going to tell me what's going on?"

She saw the other couple turn their focus towards their conversation too, and although she had hoped it would be private (it seemed a sensitive issue), she knew that their attentions might convince Chase to open up a little.

"Who is she?"

Chase sipped his drink and placed the can back on the table. "Alexandra Hale."

Andie looked at him, but Sophie sat up and stared. "Are you serious? _The _Alexandra Hale?"

"I think I missed something," Andie admitted sheepishly.

"She's a living legend," Sophie began and pointed towards the wall of the food hall. There were several large photographs of iconic dancers; Director Collins was there alongside Isabella Duncan. Sophie was pointing to one with two dancers. The man held the woman in his arms, extending her backwards. "There she is; in her final year of MSA."

"She came here?" Andie asked. Chase nodded.

"Ok, cool," Andie said turning in her seat, wanting to ask more about the strange conversation they had witnessed yesterday but not wanting to press it too far. Sophie look dumbfounded and sat back in her seat. Moose was examining a salad.

"My brother and Alex were dance partners," Chase said suddenly not looking up. "That's him on the wall, dancing with her." Andie looked back. He was completely undistinguishable under the stage make-up but if she squinted she just about recognised their Director's cheekbones and piercing eyes.

"Wow," she murmured.

"And girlfriend right?" Moose interjected.

Chase snapped his head up. "Dance partners, doofus."

"They were amazing; took the entire state by storm," Sophie interrupted.

"Come on, dance partners don't get all…" he searched for a word, "angsty with each other when they see each other again. They totally dated."

Chase ruffled the curls on Moose's head aggressively. "I dunno; I was eleven when she left to go to New York, leaving my brother here. I have no idea what their problem is. I just know that my brother is stressed out to the max, and the board of governors made a bad decision bringing Alex Hale here."

"No way!" Sophie said leaning forward. "If anyone can come up with something to save the school, it's her. The choreography she comes up with is astounding." She paused. "Don't you know how great a team your brother and Alex were?"

Chase shrugged. "Legendary?"

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Don't mock me, Boy Band." Andie laughed, but then pulled a serious face. "We'll have to see won't we?"

******

Eight thirty. Alex Hale was never late. Neither was Blake Collins usually. But she'd had a feeling this might be a little difficult. She hadn't expected him to look at her like that though. She hadn't expected to see so much anger behind his grey eyes. Mind you, his eyes had always been cold. Maybe she just wasn't used to them anymore.

The door to the staff room at MSA opened quietly and in came Director Collins; his head was down looking at some papers and he was wearing dark rimmed glasses. Smiling as he looked up at the staff, he pulled them off and laid them upon the table in front him. "Good morning," he said, quietening any murmurs amongst the employees. Alex sat up and took notice on hearing his calm voice.

"Sorry to begin the day on a grave topic," he said sitting down and joining them at their level. "But as you know, the school is in dire financial jeopardy. Well, we have come up with a solution. The older students and some younger ones are putting on a benefit concert at the end of the school year."

There was an immediate reaction to the news; some seem delighted others less so.

"What about the showcase?" a woman with a heavy French accent asked.

Blake fiddled with his glasses. "The final years suggested - and the board agrees I hasten to add - that the concert be used as the showcase; it'll be just as easy to invite the various Dean's of dance colleges to that." The woman sat back clearly still unhappy. Alex looked at the rest of the faculty.

"Anymore questions?" Blake asked. There was resounding silence. "Good, now for some...better...news," he hesistated, glancing at Alex, "the board also hired a new Director to help with the running of things and to make sure that this concert goes as utterly smoothly as it needs to be."

A roomful of eyes fell on her. "Alexandra Hale..." he added. "You're all dismissed."

The teachers rose and immediately went over to her. "It's an honour Miss. Hale," the French woman purred shaking her hand. "I can't believe they got you to come back!" exclaimed a music teacher. Alex nodded and smiled politely, feeling a little crowded by them all. Gradually, one by one they left to teach until only she and Blake were left in the staff room.

"Wow," she said quietly, "enthusiastic bunch."

"Well, you are a dancing legend," he said slightly scathingly. She straightened her back. "So are you," she added coldly. "Don't act like I'm some Nobel Prize winner of the Dancing world, Blake."

"Two minutes in a room and we're already arguing; it's going to be a lovely year," he laughed bitterly, folding his glasses together and not looking at her.

Alex didn't know what to say. "You can make this very easy or very difficult Blake. You know we can work together well. It's your choice."

He looked up into her green eyes, glaring fiercely at him. She had a knack for directing all the emotion that she felt in her body towards her eyes, leaving the rest of her – arms, legs, torso – looking completely relaxed and in her control. "Yes," he admitted, "We were _once_ a great team."

There was silence between them and Alex thought it best she gathered her stuff and left to find a studio to begin working on something. "How did they get you to come back?" he asked suddenly folding his arms. He did not posses her controlled body. His frustration was obvious in the way he stood.

"MSA was in trouble. I love this school. It was my home, my life; why wouldn't I?" she asked.

"I don't know, I just supposed that...you'd left it in your past."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not at all. I owe everyone at MSA everything, for where I am today."

He shrugged and turned his back on her. Alex closed her eyes. "I'll see you at the rehearsal." A nod. "I mean it Blake, it's your decision. Easy or hard."

He looked at her retreating back as she shut the door and walked away. He would have liked it to be easier, but he couldn't see it being so.


	5. The Necessary Skills

Chapter 5 – The Necessary Skills

There was more than anticipation bubbling up in the guts of the final years of MSA as they waited for their two directors to join them in the studio. Sure enough, they both entered together; Collins was back in his dance sweats carrying ballet shoes and looking as grim as he had done the day that he'd told them the school was in danger. Alex Hale, the dancing legend was tying her brown hair back into a long ponytail. She was already in a vest and light dance sweats. Neither of them spoke to each other. Moose waggled his eyebrows at Andie, making her laugh quietly. Chase raised an eyebrow and carried on stretching.

"Hello everyone," Blake said running his fingers through his dark hair. "Good days?" There was a collective positive murmur through the students. "Excellent. We need to get on with this."

"I'm going to need at least a week to come to terms with their dancing abilities," Alex said turning to Blake. He looked at her. "What?"

"You know as well as I do, Blake, that we can't choreograph anything until I've seen them dance."

"_I've_ seen them dance; trust me they're excellent," he retorted.

"I don't doubt it," she replied, squaring her body. "But you've worked with them for over a year. I have no experience with any of them. How am I supposed to know...?"

"Fine." He turned. "A week maximum."

"It'll take as long as it takes," she said to the side of him. "You know that. Stop opposing me on all sides," she added in a lower tone.

"You heard Miss Hale, _Director Hale,_" he corrected bitterly. "She needs to see you dance."

"Ballet?" Andie couldn't hide her disgust.

"No, whatever you 'do', your unique style, the dancing that makes you who you are. I want to see it." She walked over to the stereo. "Then we'll look at technical ability."

Andie groaned. "Come on, Andie," Blake smiled. "You've been doing well."

"I hate pirouettes." The students laughed softly.

Alex smiled and switched on the stereo. Immediately "Show Me The Money" by Petey Pablo blared out and the students moved to the side. "One at a time, show me what you've got."

Chase went first naturally; she could see immediately that he wasn't shy or reserved. His combination of modern street dancing and classic ballet was very good, and he had a passion for dance which was easy to see. Much like his brother. He stag leaped and brought it down into a sweep across the floor as he finished. Next was the slim dark girl, Sophie, who had taken off her trousers and stood in a purple leotard and scarf. She was more feminine but the fusion of ballet and Latin was executed perfectly. A turn, and bend and snapping back, she brought her hands up above her head. Moose couldn't take his eyes off of her. Moose, now Moose she had not expected much from when she had entered. But his body moved in ways that the others could only dream of and she found herself stunned.

They went one by one until the song was drawing to a close and it was time for Andie to step up. Alex watched her closely. She was enthusiastic but apart from that, she didn't know what to expect from the girl. She bound into the centre of the students and began to street dance; obviously it came quite naturally. It was really quite beautiful; the freedom of movement and expression. When the track finished, Andie brought it to an abrupt stop and wandered back to where she had been standing before, high-fiving Moose as she did so. Alex stared at the spot where she had been for a moment before looking up at Blake.

"Well?" he said.

"You're right; they're excellent," she answered walking away from the stereo.

*****

They began straight away. But there was still no resounding theme.

As Blake and Alex paced the room, watching their students jump and finish in plies, the final years called out ideas.

"Streets versus ballet?" cried Andie, who was a little breathless.

"No."

"What about...a standard routine...breaking off into...what we...just...did...solo," Sophie suggested, still jumping.

"No spectacular enough."

Alex turned off the music and sighed. "It's impossible to choreograph anything without a solid idea guys," she said resting her head backwards on the mirror. "You're done for today, but we really need to nail the theme."

There was an agreed murmur and they left quietly, exhausted. Blake wandered over. "You've got nothing?"

"No; it's like my mind's gone blank. You?"

"Only for certain dance moves; nothing more."

She put her face in her hands. "Argh! Dancer's block. Nothing worse."

He smiled but suddenly grew grave again. "Come on. It's late. Mike needs to lock up," he added gesturing to the janitor hovering by the door." He switched the stereo off at the wall. "It'll come to us."


	6. Dance Through The Ages

Chapter 6 – Dance Through The Ages

It was another week before they got the idea, and each of them grew increasingly frustrated by the minute. Blake and Alex because they had nothing to work with. Chase because he got bored easily. Andie because she hated the endless ballet exercises. Sophie because there wasn't much point having rehearsals if they weren't working towards something. The only one who remained upbeat was Moose. And even he was starting to waver in his chirpy optimism.

It was a Wednesday after school; they were waiting for Monster and Smiles to appear and Chase was trying to show Andie how to arabesque but her leg would stretch in the right way. "No, you need to extend further and straighter," Blake said. She stuck her head out slightly but wobbled and returned to both feet. "I hate it," she murmured. Blake smiled.

"It's because you're going about it the wrong way," he said, stepping across the wooden floor. "Alex, do you mind?"

The woman looked up from some papers she was looking at and pulled a puzzled face. "I'm trying to teach Andie the arabesque. Can I borrow you?"

She nodded. "Let me put my blocks on."

Taking Alex by the waist, he nodded to indicate for her to move into the position. "If you feel unstable, your partner can hold you here for support. The arabesque is about perfect balance and elegance. It'd be easier if you didn't wear such baggy sweats," he chipped in. Alex leant forward, putting pressure on Blake's arm and using his stability to extend her back leg. "Once you've built up strength and the ability with a partner, you can practise by yourself." He gestured to her leg. "See how straight her leg is? This also means she can extend her arms any way she wants because she's leaning on me." On cue, Alex lifted one arm ahead of her and another backwards, parallel to her leg. "See?"

Andie nodded and grinned her thanks. Alex lowered her leg and Blake, taking his hand from her waist, murmured gratitude. "Not a problem," she said quietly.

"Guys," Sophie said suddenly. "I think I have an idea."

They all turned to look at her expectantly. Excitement was dawning on her petite features.

"We should do a history of dance. MSA is really old; people have been learning to dance here for hundreds of years. It's evolved with dance. Think about it," she said looking around at them, "there never used to be street dancing, or R'n'B, or crunk." Blake looked incredulous but the students were beginning to get excited.

"Dancing - _then_ and _now_..." Chase murmured.

"I'm liking this idea," Andie smiled.

"It _is_ all we've got," Moose said.

"It's perfect," Sophie squealed. "Just looking at you two just now made me think about it. You're MSA's past, we're the now, and the future..."

"...Won't exist unless we start to work on this concert. I like it," Alex said. "Blake?" She turned to look at him, to try and read his face. He looked back at her and gave a weak grin. "Alright, let's start."

The final years gave a cheer.

*****

Blake flexed his fingers as he went to drink from a bottle of water. It had felt almost natural again, touching her; he had reached out to her waist before he had even had time to think about it. He was amazed he had remained so calm.

*****

Her waist was still tingling from where Blake's fingers had been and Alex realised how easy it had been to let him touch her. How odd that after all these years it would still feel like a jigsaw, like his hand belonged there.

*****

Rehearsing was tiring work. And there was little time left.

The students had to work with and around their other subjects; studies at MSA came first, and whether they agreed with that or not, it was difficult to get away with not doing a hundred and ten percent in all subject areas when under the watchful eye of the Director. But, almost every night, all of them would meet in the studio, stretching and bending ready to learn the dance moves that would hopefully save the school they loved.

Blake was supervising a paired segment of the choreography between Andie and Chase. They were exhausted and it wouldn't flow as smoothly as it was meant to. "No," Blake said rubbing his eyes. He had raised his voice a little louder than he'd meant to. "From the top."

"I can't concentrate; I'm tired. Can't we have a break?" Andie said rubbing her left shoulder. She had prickled in response to Blake's irritated tone and had met him halfway with a raised eyebrow and an indignant face.

"I've gotta admit Blake, I'm struggling with these moves. I don't think they're working together," Chase said taking a sip of water from a bottle.

"Nonsense," Blake said. "It's about timing." He paused. "Maybe when you have the music..."

"Can't you just show us?"

Blake stared at Andie blankly. "Hmmm?"

"Can't you and Alex show us how it should be done?"

Blake turned and looked at Alex who couldn't mask the shock behind her eyes. She had been working with Moose and now stood holding one of his arms in mid air. "Sure..." she began. "I mean, if you're not...getting it."

"I know I'd be able to time it much better if I could see it for myself," Chase added. "I'm a visual learner."

"Blake?" Alex asked, hoping he'd refuse, but knowing he wouldn't. "Sure," the man managed, pulling off his zip-up sweater. He was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath with the MSA logo on it. _That's what this is all about, _Alex thought as she pulled off her sweater and walked over. _MSA, the concert. Then you can leave._

Blake placed his hands at her waist and tried very hard not to look her in the eyes. She smiled nervously. "You'll have to excuse us though; it's been a while since we...urm..."

"Seven years."

"I mean, we might be rusty....together."

"Oh come on," Sophie interjected. "I've seen you guys dance on old videos. You move like liquid."

Blake coughed and looked down. "A little cheesy Sophie," Moose whispered. Andie turned on the music.

And in an instant, they began.

It came as effortless as it had before; the smooth movement, finding each other's hands and the flawless execution of different dance techniques. Blake's face had grown very serious; his eyes were glazed over with concentration. Alex was focused on his face, like she used to. The same look of dedication and love for dancing hadn't changed. Moving from a tombé, into a pas de bourrée and leaping with ease, Alex allowed herself to be led by her former partner through the steps; each plié, each passé felt like an old glove. Blake couldn't tell whether it was the dance that was making him feel breathless, or if it was seeing her do them again. His mind had slipped completely into the routine and once again, he was eighteen, in an empty studio with her. Finally, Alex finished off with the chaînés turns, spinning quickly, one after the other...until, finding his hand smoothly he took her and enclosed her in his arms stopping her completely.

Applause erupted from their students, shaking the quiet, focused world they had created. Blake blinked in confusion; he had thought they were alone for a moment.

"I knew it," Sophie cried.

"Like you said...liquid..." Moose breathed, teasing her slightly. Sophie punched his arm gently.

Alex smiled and pulled herself gently out of the lock Blake had her in. He released his fingers gently, gave her a quick smile with no life or joy in it and turned to face Chase. "That, dearest brother, is how it should be done," the Director managed to say, hiding his lack of breath and coherent thought with a puffed up chest.

"I can see that," Chase mused.

"You know, I'll never be able to do that," Andie joked with her arms crossed. "that was liek nothing I've ever seen before. And I..."

"...hate ballet," chorused the others causing Andie to raise her hands in a form of surrender. "Ok, ok," she laughed. "You all know. Good to hear."

Moving away to practice, the final years left Alex and Blake alone in their thoughts. "Excellent...execution of the final chaînés turns," he finally said pulling on his sweater and sipping some water. "Nice touch."

"Yeah," Alex managed to say. She wished she could go get a drink; her throat was dry. "Thanks for catching me...I guess we've still got it."

Blake laughed a bitter laugh that caught at the back of his neck before escaping his lips. That was true enough. Whatever they had back when they were teens, he certainly felt it again now.


	7. Mutual Heartbreak

Chapter 7 – Mutual Heartbreak

Andie slammed the door to the dance studio and ran past Alex in the corridor, almost knocking her new Director down. "Andie," Alex said to the girl's retreating back. Andie stopped, looked heavenward and turned on her heels to face the woman. "Mind explaining why you just tried to total the door just now and nearly knocked me over?"

"Sorry," Andie said shrugging. Alex shook her head and walked over to the girl. "No, I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation. What's the matter?"

Andie was angry, Alex could see that in the way she was clenching and unclenching her jaw line. Something that Alex did very often. The girl looked down, hanging her head and began to walk with Alex away from the studio.

"It's Blake...Sorry, Director Collins."

"You can call him Blake, Andie," Alex smiled. "I'm not going to reprimand you for it."

Andie returned the smile weakly and looked ahead as they walked. "It was my ballet lesson just now, and he's being a complete ass. I couldn't do a single thing right to please him; when I did, it wasn't good enough...and the more he got irritated, the more I sucked. I can't work under the pressure of his mood swings." She sighed. "Then he started on with his usual garb about how me dating Chase didn't mean I could shirk my ballet and...I quote...'this isn't the Streets now Andrea...' and all that...yada yada yada...like I haven't heard it from him a thousand times," she added gloomily.

Alex remained quiet and just listened as they reached a bench and sat down.

"I mean, I'm grateful he took me back on, and I know it's under conditions and stuff, but how can I try and improve if he's always judging where I've come from and using it against me?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "True; but I wouldn't take his comments seriously. Blake only wants the best out of you kids, but his way of showing it..."

"...is a pile of..."

"...Is to push you," Alex said over Andie. "He worked hard to get to where he is. He looks at that and thinks that's the way forward. He hasn't learnt to take into account all of your individuality yet, I don't think."

"But dancing _is_ something so individual, so unique," Andie exclaimed passionately. "Can't he see that?"

"Yes, but he sees it in arabesques and ronde de jambes."

Andie nodded but sighed in irritation. "He's so uptight at the moment. I mean, more uptight than usual. And usually it's like someone attached him to a cattle prod."

Alex stifled a laugh. "He wasn't always so uptight, if that's any comfort to you."

"No. That makes me feel worse." Alex pulled a face.

"Whatever kiddo, but you should get back in there. I never mentioned it," she added as she rose from the bench, "but I was hugely impressed when I saw you dance for the first time."

"Really?" the girl's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, making Alex catch her smile.

"Yes, really. You have raw talent and whether you want to believe it or not, you're not _that _bad at Classical dancing." Andie snorted. "So...get back in that studio and show Blake that you can...how should I put this...pas de bourrée with the rest of them."

Suddenly the girl looked sheepish. "Nah, I'll...erm...give it until tomorrow. He's probably still mad."

Alex cocked her head sideways with a face that combined a confused frown and a grin. "How come?"

Andie shrugged but looked at her feet. "I may have told him where he could get off. In fewer words."

*****

Andie's story was not the only report Alex heard of Blake's temper and bad mood that week. In fact, she seemed the only one unscathed by his despotic attitude. "He won't even listen to me," the French ballet teacher who Alex had met in her first week said. "He is...like a statue at the moment."

Blake himself had become painfully aware that he was behaving differently when Chase pointed it out when they were dining with their mother. "You're being such an ass at the moment! Acting like you're some kind of evil dictator. I don't care whether you're old girlfriend's in town,_ Hitler_," Chase added menacingly, pointing a fork at his brother, who had sat very still, "that's no excuse to behave like you've got a giant pole shoved up your..."

"Chase," their mother Frances warned, "take that hat off and don't threaten your brother." The younger son looked upwards to the peak and obliged.

"Blake, why didn't you tell me Alexandra was in Maryland?"Frances asked, turning to her dark haired son, who was looking at the beans on his plate with a strange murderous expression that Chase could only presume was meant for him. "Why is she here?"

"I didn't tell you because it's not a big deal," Blake said, shrugging to off and picking up his glass to drink. "She's the new Director."

"New Director? But _you're_ the Director!" Frances paused. "Did you get fired?"

"No, mother..."

"...don't call me mother, you know it makes me feel old..."

"..._Mom_...we're both Director. She's...helping with the choreography for the showcase," he added vaguely, popping some bread in his mouth. Frances still looked unsatisfied. "She's supposed to be lightening my work load."

"Don't talk with your mouth full. You look more tired though, and thinner. Are you eating enough?"

"Yes, Mom," Blake said swallowing down the bread and ignoring Chase's smirks. He picked up his knife and fork to carry on eating with.

"Are you...ok...with Alex being back?"

Blake set down his cutlery with a bang, making Chase stop and his mother jump. "You know, I hadn't really thought about it, ok?"

"See what I mean," Chase murmured. "He's been like this all week."

*****

"Five, Six, Seven, Eight...and turn and leap and bend and turn...Sophie, less _squat_ more bend...Mr. Whittaker unless you have a medical condition, cease with the technique that makes you look like you've dislocated something and straighten your limbs..._thank you_." Blake was pacing in front of them as they practiced and frowning over his reading glasses as he did so. Alex had not spoken two words to him since she entered, and he had not done so either. Instead, she watched him, carefully, to see if what she had heard from everyone at MSA was true. And so far, she had seen no evidence to the contrary.

"Ok Moose and Sophie, I want to see your solo..." she called out after they had stopped, trailing off at the end as she did so. Blake looked at Monster who was now seated by the stereo and gave a nod. The music began and so did the two partners. But it didn't take long before Blake was shaking his head and clapping his hands.

"No, no," he started, sounding annoyed, "turn it _OFF_ Whittaker!" Silence. "The third leap after Sophie's tombe; this is the fourth time since you learnt the routine that I've seen you do it, Robert," he addressed his anger to Moose now, "and still each time, though you've been corrected, you still act like you're a baby giraffe who has just taken its first _ungraceful _steps." He paused, as if waiting for Moose to say something but the curly haired boy just looked at Sophie, then Andie and then Alex. He shrugged. "It doesn't come natural to me," he managed.

Blake unfolded his arms and pinched the skin between his eyes. "Evidently not. Take it out and fill it with something else."

"Leave it in."

Everyone turned to look at Alex, who had dared to speak. Blake looked at her with blank eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"The leap is fine. He just needs more practice." Blake snorted. "It stays," she added as she kept her head down, examining her fingers.

"Damn it Alex," Blake said taking his glasses off. "That move doesn't work."

Alex Hale stood up from the seat where she had been sitting moments before and crossed her arms. "The move works fine. At least from where I was sitting. And isn't that how the audience will be? Hmmm? Seated."

"Well then, someone else needs to do it other than Robert," Blake looked directly into her eyes, something he was getting quiet good at now.

"He likes to be called _Moose_, Blake. You know," she began, in full anger now, "if you took time to get to know these kids and accept them for what they are instead of trying to mould them into carbon copy ballet clones like we were, maybe you'd understand them better and they wouldn't think of you as the tyrannical dictator that you're behaving like."

Blake stared at her. He couldn't bring himself to say her name as he seethed quietly on the wooden floor before her. Alex wished she'd bit her tongue but he had always had difficulty in hearing truth, especially from her. She was not the best at delivering it.

"I..." he began, angrily. "No," Alex started. "No; you've upset all of these students this week and most of the faculty." Blake looked around the room, where all of its inhabitants were looking back at him with grave faces. "You owe them an apology Blake."

The man stood quietly for a few moments before he turned to them and frowned. "I'm...sorry," he managed to say before turning back and brushing past Alex to leave the room.

"I'll see if he's..." Chase began but Alex shook her head. "I'll sort him out. Besides, you need to work on your section."

*****

She followed Blake as he stormed towards his office. "Blake," she said, trying to stop him in his tracks. "Blake, come here."

He didn't stop. When he reached his office, he swung open the door forcing her to catch its handle before it hit the wall. He put a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes before moving to the couch which he kept in his office. He sank back into the cushions with a sigh, his face pointing towards the ceiling and his hands covering his face. Alex shut the door carefully and sat beside him.

"Blake," she said quietly. "What's going on?"

"Everything," he said, leaning forward. "Everything...I've pushed myself and pushed myself and now I'm at breaking point. I've turned into some kind of monster. I can't guess what people must think of me. Probably that I should never have gotten this job in the first place. Maybe if I hadn't...I can't handle this," he added trailing off.

"Blake, you're doing fine. Everything is running smoothly," Alex said soothingly, trying to hide her confusion. "You've just had a tough week. Besides, you don't have to handle it by yourself; that's why they called me in. To lighten the load."

He paused. "It's _because_ you're here that I feel like this."

Alex froze and sat speechless. Moving herself away from him so there was a greater distance between them; she swallowed hard and murmured, "Oh."

He sighed. "Try to understand..."

"No, I do. Sorry," she started to say, staring off into some other place.

"Alex." She turned at her name and managed a weak smile. "I understand Blake; it was always going to be difficult. I just thought...after all this time..."

"No...I..." he struggled to articulate himself. "I don't know how to be around you anymore. It's driving me mad. We fight, but we still work as great team. You undermine me, yet we still dance like..." He sighed once more.

"I wish we could go back to how it was before," she mused quietly.

"Which part? The part where we friends, the part where we hated each other..." Blake snorted. _The part where we were lovers._

Alex looked at him sideways. "Friends. Of course. I missed your friendship."

Blake laughed. "Well, you made the decisions that altered _that_."

Alex frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He stood up. "You broke my heart," he said in a strangled voice.

Alex stared at his cold face. "You broke mine," she replied fiercely.

He laughed bitterly. "How did _I _break _your _heart?"

Alex stood and faced him. "You told me to go! I came to tell you that I wasn't going to leave – of course I wouldn't go anywhere without you willingly – and you _told_ me to go. 'It'll be a great _opportunity_' you said! What was I supposed to do? Stay around for someone who didn't want me there?"

Blake stared at her incredulously. "You had as good as accepted the New York offer when you came to see me so don't pretend my input changed that!"

"It did! I wanted to go to London, with you! I was waiting for an offer; I didn't see them at the showcase!"

"Then why didn't you!" he shouted. "Why did you leave me!"

She paused. "Because you had already assumed that I would go; but I didn't want to further my career like you were," - a cry from Blake - "a solo position didn't appeal to me. But you told me to go. You were so..._cold. _Like a machine. You stood in front of me, Blake, pirouetting and plie-ing, telling me to get out of your life."

Silence filled the air between them as they both seethed.

"I should get back to the studio," Blake managed to say, walking to the door. Alex sat down on the couch, willing herself not to cry until after he'd gone.

"I came back," she said, making him stop in his tracks and turn towards her. "What?" he asked.

"I came back one weekend, about a fortnight after I left. We hadn't spoken for months. I hated it in New York at first. I missed you. I was willing to admit that I'd been foolish," she looked down at her feet. "It was supposed to be a big surprise. I didn't even tell Frances, since she wouldn't be able to keep it a secret." She laughed sadly. "But when I came back, you weren't here." She paused and met his eyes. "You were in London."

"I..." Blake tried to say.

"_You_ told me you hadn't got an offer yet."

"They asked me when New York asked you."

"And you never told me."

Blake paused with his fingers wrapped around the door handle. "I thought I was doing what was best for you. What you wanted. If you wanted New York..."

"What was best for me?" Alex rose, interrupting him, and walked over to the door, yanking the handle from his hands. "For you more like." She pushed past him, fighting the tears all the way down the corridor, until she was out of earshot.


	8. The Ease Of Separation

Chapter 8 – The Ease of Separation

July, Nine Years Ago

"Jayne," Alexandra Hale called out to a red head who was walking down one of the corridors of the MSA building. "Have you seen Blake? He disappeared after the showcase."

"Yeah," Jayne replied, smiling at the girl. "I saw him heading towards the studio. Don't you guys ever get out of there? I mean, you can't need to rehearse now after that killer show! You guys were awesome."

"We all were; your solo was breathtaking Jayne," Alex beamed. "Did you get any offers?"

"I was introduced to a few of the Deans. I definitely have a place in Texas and Washington if I want them."

Alex hugged the girl causing her to laugh. "That's fantastic!"

"You?"

She watched a cloud appear over Alex's face. "Nothing from London yet...New York offered me a place."

"Seriously?" The redheaded girl squealed and grinned. "New York! New York, Alex!"

Alex smiled weakly and murmured a 'yes'. "I should find Blake; I'll see you over the summer?"

"Definitely."

Jayne watched the girl walk away, her brown hair bouncing about at her shoulders. _What will happen to her and Golden Boy? _Jayne thought. He was obviously destined for somewhere prestigious. She shrugged and walked away. _New York, what an offer!_

*****

Alex heard the classical music before she went into the studio. There was Blake, at the far of the room, performing a routine he had learnt years ago, staring at himself in the mirror. Alex walked over, not being able to contain the smile on her face at the sight of him. He had been her partner for two years now, and her boyfriend for most of that time, and he still made her smile like someone had handed her a wad of cash. Most of the time.

"Hey," she called out, but he didn't stop. "Hey," he replied breathlessly.

"Where'd you go? I've been looking for you." He finally stopped and switched the music off. His face was drawn and he was frowning. "I needed to unwind a bit." She nodded. This was where they came to relax. Blake more than her.

"Are you..." she stopped herself and took a deep breath. He looked up from having a drink of water and wiping his face. She had taken her hair out of the bun it had been in before and now her brown hair had fallen in curls about her shoulders. She'd changed out of her costume into jeans and a green top and looked tired; her eyes betraying worry that wasn't evident on her face. She walked a little closer to him and he tried to smile, but it wasn't in him.

"What's the matter?"

She knew he would ask. He could read her like a book.

"Who says anything's the matter?"

He scanned her face. "Your eyes." She smiled sadly but he continued to frown.

"New York offered me the Bartrum Scholarship."

He took in a sharp breath. "I saw you talking to the Dean." He turned back to the mirror and begun put his arms through the positions. The Bartrum Scholarship was a highly prestigious, much sought after ballet course which offered the person who was deemed worthy of it, abundant pathways of possibility and the best tutorage in the whole of America. It was only offered to one person in America each year, and one international student.

"Did they speak to you?"

"Not yet," Blake answered curtly. "Are you going to take it?"

Alex paused. "I..."

"You should. You'd be a fool not to," he said. "It's only offered to one person and you are that one person." He stopped and looked at her. "It'll be a great opportunity."

She looked at him blankly. "You think I should take it?"

"Of course."

"You think I shouldn't wait to hear from London?"

"no." Switching the music on, he began to scissor jump one more, staring ahead into the mirror. She looked down at her hands not knowing what to say.

"But..."

_If Blake didn't get offered a place at New York..._

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know yet."

"you..."

"Alex," he said still doing his routine, "You've been offered the Bartrum Scholarship. You should be celebrating. You shouldn't care what I think."

She felt anger rising up under her skin. "Blake," she said through her teeth. He carried on.

"Blake, stop!"

He landed in fourth and looked at her, his eyes cold when they had always been so warm. "What?"

"Don't you care? If you don't go to NYBS..."

"You'll be far too focused on your course to think about me."

The words she had been trying to say –_ I don't want to leave you, how will we see each other, I told them I needed time to think – _caught in her throat.

"Um...ok," she managed before she stepped back a few paces. Blake nodded and turned the music up a little before starting to dance again. Alex walked numbly out of the studio, praying for the shaking feeling in her legs to go away.

*****

"London, Blake, darling! This is amazing. The Royal Ballet School!" Frances cooed, hugging her oldest son. "I'm so proud of you."

He sat there torpidly taking in his mother and father's congratulations and when it was alright to do so, he excused himself, saying he was exhausted and went to his room. Ten minutes, later there was a knock on his door, and Chase, his nine year old brother sidled into the dark room.

"Blake? You ok?"

"I'm very tired." Chase eyed his brother who was laid across the bed, stomach down and his face pressed against a single pillow.

"Your dance was awesome, I got goose pimples," Chase said taking off his hat, which he always wore.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"What's wrong?"

"Please leave me alone."

"Aren't you excited about RBS?"

"Ecstatic." He paused. "It's a great opportunity."

Chase nodded and looked at his feet. His brother had been down and out since the showcase and neither Mom nor Dad seemed to have noticed his sullen face, his quiet mood. If they had, they'd put it down to excitement. He smiled and went over to the bed where he gave his brother an awkward hug, squeezing the older boy's shoulders. Blake felt cold, Chase thought, so he pulled a quilt off of the bed and draped it across him. "Night, Golden Boy."

"Night Twinkle Toes."

When he was sure Chase had gone, and he had heard the soft click of his parent's bedroom door shutting, Blake pulled the cover over his head and began to cry.


	9. Building Bridges, Burning The Past

Chapter 9 – Building Bridges, Burning The Past

Blake didn't speak as Alex walked into his office the next day. Looking up from his papers and taking his glasses off, he watched her. She looked calm and pleasant; her hair was down for once (he had seen it back these last few weeks at rehearsals so often, he'd forgotten what it looked like down) and she was in jeans. He took a mouthful of coffee from the mug beside him and looked back at the paper on his desk.

"Can I help you Alex?" he said after a few moments.

"I'd like to apologise for last night." He swallowed hard. "Really?"

"We have to work together Blake. We managed it once. Everything we spoke about...that was a long time ago," she said softly. "I want to be friends."

He stared at her. "Friends?"

"Come on Blake," she rolled her eyes, "I asked you at the start whether you wanted to make it easy or hard. Well, I've decided, I can't...handle hard." She smirked. "And when I say friends, I mean real friends. Joking, laughing, and _talking to each other_, not robot civility."

He paused, frowning slightly. "Ok," he managed. "Friends." He didn't know whether he should stand up. Truth be told, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all last night; every time he shut his eyes he saw her angry, hurt face – at eighteen and now, nine years later. "Friends," he repeated with a smile.

"Excellent," she murmured. "See you later?"

"Rehearsal."

"Yes."

"Goodbye," he said as she shut the door behind her. How long would this last?

*****

"I have the track!" Sophie cried as she ran into the studio, her heels making a _clack clack_ sound as she did so. "It's remixed, finalised, and awesome!"

"Aces," Moose smiled. "We owe Heimlich big time," he added kissing his girlfriend demurely on the corner of her mouth. Alex watched her as he pulled back to look at the CD; Sophie only looked at Moose adoringly.

"Why do we call him Heimlich again?" Blake said looking up from some files he'd brought with him. He'd chirped up over the last day and seemed more relaxed, although he looked very sleepy, Alex noticed.

"Because, in first year, he was eating a pack of peanuts and he put too many in his mouth, and he started to turn blue and Chase ran up behind him and..." Moose said energetically.

"...Performed the Heimlich manoeuvre," Chase shrugged with an infectious grin, that even Blake caught. "That's kind of it."

"Do you all have nicknames at MSA?" Alex smiled.

"Yeah, sure. Sophie's Robot Ballerina," Chase began, because only he could get away with it, "Andie's Sunshine, Moose is Moose, Monster, Smiles etc etc," he trailed off.

"And you're the conceited arrogant one?" Blake joked. Chase smirked, but Andie put a hand on his chest and leaned forward. "Nah, he's Boy Band, and you're Hitler."

Blake looked up with a raised eyebrow and shook his head. Alex laughed. "What am I?"

"Coffee Maker. Black, strong, one sugar," Blake chipped in, not looking at her. "Please," he added with a glance.

"I know my place," Alex said raising her hands. "Get on with the routine while I fix..._his Majesty_...a coffee."

*****

Chase knocked on the door to Alex's office before stepping in. She smiled when she saw him. "Boy Band," she said, "What can I do for you?" he gestured to a stack of files in his hand. "From the boss. Something about you looking over them and getting them back to him tonight. You're welcome to drop by the house."

"Thank you Chase, just put them on the chair."

He put them down with a thud and adjusted his hat as he went to leave. Alex watched him carefully. "You're still wearing that hat?"

"Nah," he laughed, "I grew out of the original, and I just got the next size up." He paused before he went to the door. "You know, I don't know whether I should mention this but..." he sighed. "Blake was real cut up when you left." Alex's face fell and she looked down. "I'm not blaming you; I guess you had your reasons but I know my brother, and I know he'd like to give the impression he didn't give a damn. He did."

Alex took a deep breath. "Thank you Chase, that's..." she didn't know what to say. "Thanks."

The boy left moments later leaving Alex in her own thoughts. Had she really supposed Blake hadn't cared? After all that was why she took him so seriously that night. He had seemed so unfeeling, like she didn't matter. Maybe...maybe he had just tried to push her away, making her decision easier. With no Blake, New York had been the only option. And look where she was. Co-Director of an esteemed arts school with numerous awards under her belt. From Blake's perspective, he had made the right decision.

*****

Alex wandered up the path towards a house she knew very well but hadn't entered for nearly a decade. It looked no different drenched in the rain that had been steadily falling since around six. The porch was illuminated by lights and she could see that the old love seat was still there and the potted plant (where they kept the decoy key – the real one was hidden under a floorboard) that looked sadly in need of some water. Pulling her coat around her, she looked up. Blake's bedroom had always been at the front of the house. _I wonder if it still is,_ she thought as she climbed the steps to knock on the door. Rapping the knocker sharply, she waited.

Blake answered the door quickly and shut it behind him as he stepped out onto the porch. Alex looked at him confused. "Don't you answer your phone?" he whispered. Frantically she pulled it out of her bag. "No battery," she said apologetically. "What's wrong?"

"I was ringing to say 'don't come'," he hissed.

"Sorry! Bad time?"

He took the files from her." Yes; my mother is here," he said in a low voice looking back at the house. "I didn't think I should subject you to that."

Alex raised an eyebrow but felt worried. She liked Frances but it had been a long time and she wasn't entirely sure if Frances still like her.

"Thank you for these, but go before..."

The door to the house opened causing light from inside to spill out on to the porch. Frances and Chase stood in the doorway; the boy's face taken over by a mischievous grin (although he was trying to appear innocent) and their mother who looked surprised.

"Alexandra! Alexandra Hale," she exclaimed stepping out to hold Alex's hand but instead, embraced her. "I heard you were in town but I never expected to see you! Come in, darling. I want to catch up. It's been, what..."

"Nine years," Blake said shutting the door on the rain as his mother dragged Alex inside.

"Yes, nine years! Take of that coat...Blake, be a gentleman and get the poor girl a warm drink. Chase, hang her coat up." Alex barely had time to remove her shoes before the woman moved her through to the sitting room. Blake returned minutes later with a cup of tea and a smile. Sitting down, Alex noticed he was wearing jeans, something she had not seen him wear in years, and a dark green round neck top. He tried to look apologetic but his eyes smiled as Frances began the interrogation.

"How have you been?" she cooed.

"Erm...well, thank you. You look fantastic...you're what, thirty now? Because, in truth you look no older than twenty." Frances laughed. She did look young when she laughed; her hair was shorter now and less blonde than when Alex last saw her, but she was still thin as a rake and had eyes like steel. "You always were a card!" Alex looked at Blake and Chase who shrugged in unison. "No, I'm nearing fifty five."

"Wow...still teaching?"

"Occasionally, mostly younger children. How was New York?"

Alex paused. She guessed that Frances had never realised the full situation with regards to her and Blake, only that they had gone separate ways for the sake of dance and in the Collins family, that's the way it should be. "Well, NY was a few years ago itself, but it all went well. How's Clive?" She saw immediately she shouldn't have asked because Frances lifted a hand to her cheek. "You were never told; you and Blake didn't stay in touch, I suppose." She paused and made a sound like a whimper.

"Dad died," Chase added. "A few years back. Heart attack."

Alex leaned forward and touched the old woman's knee. "Frances, I am so sorry. Clive was a good man; he was always so kind to me."

The woman nodded thanks and sniffed. "I'm ok, I just miss him terribly."

The questions continued for a good hour until Frances seemed satisfied and moved on to general chat. Alex had skimmed over the relationship questions; mostly because Blake sat right next to his mother and mostly because she didn't want to admit to not seeing anyone of consequence since him.

"So, you're co director now? Maybe Alexandra will tell me why?" Alex couldn't miss the look Frances shot at her sons and the subtle shake of the head Blake gave her when his mother wasn't looking.

"They brought me in because they wanted a more female influence over the school, someone women could turn to," Alex lied. "As well as me being some kind of help meet for Blake. To lighten the load," she smiled.

Blake rolled his eyes. Frances seemed satisfied at last.

"I really..._really..._should go," Alex said standing up. Both men and Frances stood also. "Thank you for the catch up, and the tea," she added handing the cup to Blake, brushing his fingers as she did so. Frances linked arms with her and led her to the door."It's so _good _to see you again. I only saw you when you came back for that weekend looking for Blake," Blake cringed, "and then you just disappeared. Clive was very fond of you," she mused.

"I wish I had of visited more, I'm sorry."

"It's ok; we were just so used to you being here..._all the time_...to you being completely absent from out lives." Frances took Alex's face in her hands. "Don't lose touch again, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," the older woman said, gently tapping the side of Alex's face. "Dinner, this Sunday at mine. 'I can't make it' is not an option."

"What _are_ the options?"

"I'll be here at one, I'll bring dessert or only if there's homemade apple sauce."

"All of the above."

Frances smiled and waved as Alex stepped out on the porch, Blake stepping out once more and shutting the door. He sighed. "Sorry about that, but I did try to warn you."

"Blake, I've always liked your Mom. It's not a problem."

She watched as he gave a small smiled, but then frowned. "Where's your car?"

She looked around into the night in confusion. "What car?"

"The one you drove here in."

"Oh! I walked here."

He stared at her. "You walked."

"Yes."

He stepped down from the sheltered porch and held out a hand, although he didn't need to. "It's pouring, Alex."

"So it is. It was raining when I walked here."

"It's late now. Come on; let me get the keys and I'll drive you home."

"It's only water." She smirked. "Besides, the final years were telling me about their dance off in the rain. You seemed not to mind it then."

"I was observing them," he said in an irritated tone, heading to the house for his keys, "like they asked. So don't listen to their stupid, childish jibes about how I should consider being a swimwear model or how the 'drowned rat' look was 'so me'. I was drenched to the skin."

"So were they."

"But they were jumping around. And gyrating. Keeping warm."

Alex laughed. "They didn't mention it. They only said that you got a cold and sniffed for the rest of the week."

He turned and looked at her shirtily. "It was verging on _pneumonia_ and at least I still came in."


	10. Show Me The Streets

Chapter 10 – Show Me The Streets

Alex slipped into the passenger side of Blake's Range Rover; a far cry from the vintage blue Mustang he'd slaved fifteen hours a week at fast food restaurant, on top of his MSA schedule, to save the money for. She felt the leather seat; cool and smooth under her fingers and felt a sense of nostalgia for the old car that she used to watch for out of her bedroom window. "What happened to Isabella?"

"She died," Blake said sadly, slamming the door to the Rover and bringing the engine to life with a start. "I was travelling to visit my Grandmother the first summer back from London and I broken down on route. I tried to save her, but with my limited mechanical skills...it was too late."

Alex smiled, trying to imagine Blake in overalls and fixing a car, and tied her damp hair back. "Well, it's a good job that you have this instead; the seats will wipe dry. Izzy's would have smelt damp for weeks." She looked at him apologetically.

"Don't worry – if you look on the back seat," he said, looking at the road carefully as he pulled out, "there should be a gym bag. There may be a clean towel inside it." Alex leant back, brushing his shoulder as she did so. Sure, enough, a dry towel waited for her. "Thank you," she said, beginning to dry her hair.

"So," Blake began as they were travelling along a main road, wipers beating back and forth against the rain, which had only gotten heavier. "Do you discuss me often with the students?"

Alex snorted. "Your ego never ceases to amaze me. No, no, they were talking about 'the Streets' and this dance off, the one in the rain – Andie said you let her back into the school because of it and Moose switched departments?"

"Well, she showed her worth and so did he."

"Pray tell, what were they talking about when they say 'the Streets'?"

"Your guess is as good as mine; I'm still not sure. But it's a way of dancing, freestyle and competitive. It's also an attitude," he added, remembering Andie's impassioned speech in the crowded club last year. "I've never seen anything like it," he admitted.

"I've seen freestyle dancing but never in a competitive sense."

"They must have it in New York, surely."

"Of course, but I didn't make a point of venturing downtown that often. Maryland is far safer than NYC, Blake." He gave her a small smile and nodded. "I suppose."

"They have 'crews'," Blake said, after a moment, checking his mirror and seeing no one behind them. "Andie used to be part of a crew called 'the 410'; mostly criminals, some of them are...more savoury," he said stiffly, remembering Missy, the Latin American girl.

"The 410? The people who destroyed the main studio?"

"Yes; Chase and Andie decided it would be an excellent idea to form their own crew, under the school's name I hasten to add, and _bait _their competition with a humiliating video." Blake sniffed. "The place was a mess, Andie took responsibility and I had to expel her."

"Gosh," Alex said quietly, looking out of the window. The moon was almost full and struggled to shine through the heavy rain clouds which were still threatening to spill more fat droplets.

"But, it all worked out," Blake smiled, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel. "It was a very impressive routine, which is why I trusted them with the benefits concert."

"Wise choice. They'll all...very talented."

Blake made a noise in agreement and looked left and right. "Where am I turning here?"

"Left; I'm renting in Hainsview. Not far from where my old home."

"Have you seen it lately?" he asked gently.

"Yes. They cut the roses down," she said sadly, not looking at him. Blake took his left hand from the steering wheel and touched her arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she smiled, waving a hand and trying to laugh it off. He moved his hand away; the skin he had touched burnt. "Mom has been gone for years and Dad moved away. They weren't our roses anymore. The owners can do what they like with their own home. Besides," she added with a grin, although the sadness still tinged her eyes, "they haven't cut down the vine snaking up to my old bedroom window."

"No," Blake said with a laugh, "but they have a teenage daughter so they may do soon."

*****

Chase walked up behind Andie, who was struggling to put a book in her locker, and wrapped his hands over her eyes. "Boo," he said in a low voice by her ear. She turned, book still in hand and hit his arm playfully with it. "Give a girl a hand will ya?" She tried to move her things to rearrange them and gain more space but the contents threatened to flood out of her locker. She sighed. "Can't you convince Big Bro to let us have bigger lockers? Or maybe two each."

"Why have you got so much stuff?" Chase said, taking the book and the bag of clothes out to make some room. "These," he said waving the bag in her face, "you can dump in mine." The book slotted in easily now.

"Thank you," Andie beamed. "And...It shuts!" she added as she slammed the locker shut. "Hero," she said, kissing him on the lips, standing on her tip-toes to do so.

"Just doing my duty ma'am."

They began walking down the corridor heading towards the studio when they had their next class. It seemed that they spent more of their time in there. Chase was beginning to feel how Blake used to be but it was difficult to resent the resemblance when it was for a good cause and when Andie was with him most of the time too. Andie. Chase smiled to himself._ This girl's a keeper._

"No news from the Streets for a while," he remarked. Andie pulled her bag straps and raised an eyebrow as she scoffed. "Good; man, with all this rehearsing, we wouldn't be even close to ready for a face off." She paused. "We should relax though, let our hair down later and head to the joint. Just to see what's going down."

Chase nodded. "It's Friday; we deserve a break."

"Dope."

"Sick."

"Aces."

"Anti-whack."

Andie looked at him sideways. "_Anti-whack?_"

"Yeah because whack means bad. On its own"

"Aw, Chase, that's lame."

"Yeah," he said draping an arm round her shoulder and rubbing her head with his knuckles on the other hand. He ignored her pleas for mercy with a smile. "I know."

****

"Get up!" Blake said frowning at his final years as he walked into the studio. "Do you think we have time to sit around?"

"Relax, Blake..."

"Director Collins..."

"...we were just relaxing for a moment. Some of us have had a full day," Chase murmured looking at Andie, Sophie and Monster.

"I'm aware of your schedule; are you aware we have only a few months until the concert and the routine is not complete yet?" Blake said crossing his arms.

"Ease off them_ Director Collins_," Alex said entering the studio and walking over with a clipboard. "They've been working hard." Blake's shoulders relaxed at the sound of her voice and he dropped his arms. "Yes, sorry. I expect...too much of you sometimes. I forget..."

"That we're not all robots," Andie said. There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room but to their surprise Blake merely smiled and shrugged. "Yes. I suppose so."

"Come on guys," Chase said warily but standing up. His shoes squeaked on the floor as he did so. "We can work hard now and then we'll feel like we deserve to go out tonight."

Alex snapped her head up. "Where are you going?"

Moose looked at Andie who kept quiet. "You're not _in trouble_," Alex said rolling her eyes. "I'm curious."

"Only to a club downtown," Chase said. "There's a lot of dancing and stuff." The group nodded in unison with a soft murmur.

"Like...'the Streets' right?" she said carefully. Blake looked at her with an inquisitive look.

Andie raised an eyebrow. "You wanna come don't you?"

Alex opened her mouth to say something. Blake frowned. "Alex?"

She bit her lip. "It really...intrigues me."

Chase grinned and crossed his arms, his eyes bright with glee. "A prima ballerina intrigued by the Streets."

"I'm not a prima, Chase. I've seen freestyle; I just...I've never seen underground dance competitions."

The students laughed and Alex frowned. "Fine, forget it."

"I'll come too."

Everyone stopped abruptly and looked at where the voice had come from. Chase stared at his brother. "What?" Blake said. "I've been before."

"Only when I forced you too," Sophie said with an indignant face.

"And you left as soon as you could," Andie added.

Blake looked down at his feet. "We'll both come."

Chase shrugged. "Sure; it'll be like a field trip, right?" A look from his brother and Director silenced him.

*****

The bass line from the music inside was reverberating through the concrete of the parking lot and into Alex's body. She felt the hairs on her back prickle in reaction. "I'm not going to get stabbed am I? You know, for being over twenty?" Chase looked at her and laughed. "Shut up."

It was warm inside and Alex was glad she hadn't worn a coat. The lighting was red and orange but still dark and she let her eyes adjust to the sharp contrast from the spring evening's light outside. Andie touched her should and laughed. "This way," she yelled over the roar of the music.

Walking past a stack of speakers, Alex looked around, awestruck already at the dancing. Free styling or street dancing was no stranger to her – she had been taught a little by a few students at New York – but she never ceased to be amazed at the ingenuity of the moves and the freedom of it. In ballet, a style she of course had immense respect for, it was about caged passion; expressing emotion through controlled, regimented and perfectly executed movements. What she had seen in New York and now here, well, the emotion was obvious and raw. People used what they had around them, be it speakers, boxes, railings, other people. She could never see a ballerina stag leaping from a speaker while "Push" by Enrique Iglesias pulsed out into the club.

She smiled at the thought. "What is it?" Blake asked leading her onwards to follow the others to where a dance circle was forming. Moose and Chase had already begun. She watched Blake's focus become detracted by their originality and quick, sharp punches and flexes. "Sorry," he apologised, turning towards her. "It fascinates me."

"I can see," she smiled.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" she said over the music. "It's just it's a far cry from where we came from, right?"

"Your origins make you who you are", Blake yelled, "But yes," he agreed as a girl joined Moose in the circle and began jerking her hips, "we are worlds apart."


	11. An Introduction

Chapter 11 – An Introduction

MSA, Eleven Years Ago

A girl of sixteen slipped into the dance studio beside a tall redhead and coughed. "What's going on Jayne?"

Jayne looked at Alex, who had a duffel bag over her shoulder and her fringe clipped back. "Blake Collins is auditioning for a dance partner." Alexandra Hale looked around with wide eyes. "Whoa, the ladies love him I see," she whispered. Jayne smothered her giggles. Alex always made her laugh; she was a bit of a wild cat in comparison to the norm. Most MSA girls were stuck up. Alex made no pretence that she worked hard to get better. She earned her money.

"He _is_ a Collins. MSA royalty. Not to mention hot to trot."

Alex snorted and mock bowed. "Final year?"

"No; he's in our year." Alex craned to see his face, but he was watching the auditioning girl intently. He had dark hair, a good build, obviously a strong dancer. Alex squinted. "He doesn't look sixteen."

Jayne shrugged and carried on watching the girl in front of them.

She finished and was replaced by more girls; all similar routines even though they were supposed to be improvisations – some of the music was recent, some was classical - and Alex was growing bored. There was no originality. She watched the boy making notes; he didn't say much, only nodded or motioned the next one on, asking them a few standard questions. Surely he must be tired of the monotony? She leant her head back against the wall and crossed her arms.

"Next please," he called out, waking Alex up. Jayne looked at her. "You going to audition?" The dark haired girl snorted. "Yeah. Right. I just came to see what all the fuss was about." She paused and then looked at Jayne. "Are you?"

"I thought I might," Jayne said sheepishly.

"Jayne!" Alex hissed.

"Alex, he's hot. And I might be what he's looking for."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Are we still talking about the dancing?" Jayne shoved Alex gently.

The next girl was blonde and chubby-faced, even though body wise, she was incredibly thin. She confidently stood before Blake and smiled widely. The stereo was switched on and Alex instantly recognised 'Fantasy' but Mariah Carey. It had only been released a few weeks ago. She couldn't contain her smirk. This girl was good but had been completely unprepared for a pop song. She was out of her element.

Alex watched the chasses and the endless pas de bourrées before rolling her eyes at Jayne. Jayne smiled. "I wonder whether he'll pick her; she's a favourite of Director Franklin." Alex looked at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

When it came to the chorus, Alex began to mime the words to the song. Jayne caught her acting out the actions passionately and couldn't contain a giggle, drawing attention to them. Blake motioned for the music to be stopped and turned in his chair to see Alex reaching the climax of the song. Jayne swiped a hand across her mouth to contain a smile and nudged Alex.

"Excuse me," Blake said coldly. "But are you auditioning?"

"No," Alex said, smiling at him widely. "I am observing."

"Then _what_, do you think you were doing?" He was frowning at her.

Alex pointed up as if the music came from above. "Fantastic song."

"Are you mocking my choices?"

"A little." She paused." I think your auditionee was expecting something a little more classic."

"A great dancer should be able to adapt." He smirked. "I doubt you would be able to do as such." He turned back in his seat and nodded at the blonde girl who walked to the sidelines.

Unable to bite her tongue, Alex leaned forwards from the wall. "Excuse me," she said coolly, "But you don't know me."

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Then you get up there. Show us how amazing you are," he said scathingly.

Alex dropped her duffel bag and pulled off her cardigan. Picking up her ballet shoes she paced over to the centre of the studio; all eyes following her intently. She saw his face more clearly now, as she slipped on her shoes and wrapped the peach ribbons around her ankles tightly; angular features and high cheekbones, piercing eyes and a thin mouth. He was smirking insufferably and she felt her shoulders stiffen.

"Name?" he asked, regarding the brunette before him. She had begun to tie her dishevelled waves back. She was fresh faced and thin, taller than average but not un-partnerable. Her eyes were fierce. He saw that his challenge was one that she would not have backed down from. Determination. Interesting. She had the structure of a great ballerina.

"Alexandra Hale."

"Height. Age."

"Five foot ten. Sixteen."

"Begin." His word was accompanied by a nod at the sound guy and once again the sound of Mariah's voice filled the studio. Immediately, Alex began to dance, blocking out the faces of those around the room, especially his. She focused on something else; what she had for breakfast, the next step, the book she was reading, an arabesque sweeping into a chasse, her mother's rose bushes. Finally as she clocked the final beats of the song, Alex rounded it off with her own twist on the chaînés turns and finished in an extended position towards the ceiling, resting on her points.

Murmurs from around the room told her she had done better than expected. Relaxing, she placed her hand son her hips and looked down at her feet, breathing sharply and then glanced up to see the Collins boy writing furiously on some paper, his mouth slightly parted. Jayne was staring at her wide eyed.

"Interesting," he said, not looking up at her directly, save a quick glance. "Thank you for your contribution. You may leave now."

"Glad to be of service," Alex managed to say before walking off, picking up her duffel bag and leaving, Jayne following swiftly. Blake turned briefly in his chair to look at her retreating back. _Interesting._

*****

Jayne swallowed hard as she watched Blake Collins enter into the canteen, followed by a gaggle of girls and stick up a piece of paper with the results posted. Alex didn't even look up from her book and turned an uneaten apple in her hands. "Are they the audition results?" she murmured in a low voice, without looking at Jayne. The red headed girl nodded and began to plait her long hair nervously. "Do you want me to..." she began to ask, with eyebrows raised.

Alex glanced over her shoulder and looked back to the pages before her. "Yes." She hadn't been interested. But the more she thought about it, the more it turned over in her mind, the more she lost sleep over it – she _had _been the best audition that day. If he didn't at least shortlist her, what did that say about her dancing?

She told herself she didn't want to be Blake Collins partner.

She told herself it didn't matter. His opinion didn't matter.

Jayne sidled up to the paper and pushed through some disappointed girls. Scanning the brief thank you paragraph, she spotted the short list, only three names, none of which were Alex's. The blonde girl was on there. She let her hazel eyes wander down.

"Oh!" she said in a surprised voice.

Alex turned round to look at Jayne who was spinning slowly on her heels and looking at her best friend. She opened her mouth to say something to Alex but the blonde girl blocked their path.

"Congrats," she smiled, although she looked a little sad. "If you turn it down, I'm still up for a shot but you did do a fantastic dance." She moved away revealing Jayne with her hands in the air. Alex had gone white, and returned her focus back to her book.

Blake watched her reaction from the canteen food line. As she turned the page of the book she was reading, she bit into an apple. A small smile escaped her lips as she kept her head bowed. He raised an eyebrow and smiled to himself. _Interesting._


	12. Inclusion Of The Spectacular

Chapter 12 – Inclusion of The Spectacular

Alex sat on the floor, unconsciously pointing and un-pointing her toes, which for once were not contained in satin shoes and ribbons, and watched the students intently. Blake sat beside her in a similar fashion. She glanced down to see him drumming his fingers on the sprung floor but his face did not match his hand. His eyes were scrutinizing every move as hers did.

They finished and fell apart, all the students breathing heavily and grinning from adrenaline. Alex and Blake rose.

"Well," Sophie said, impatiently.

"It's good," Alex said.

"Good?" Andie started.

"Not great," Blake added.

"What?" Chase hissed, sweating.

"It's missing something," Alex frowned. Sophie threw her hands in the air and ran her hands through her hair. "What are you talking about? The routine was great."

"Great, but not spectacular. It wouldn't invoke people to part with money," Blake said sadly. "I'm sorry but it doesn't make the cut yet."

The students sat down and murmured angrily. They were exhausted. "Come one guys," Alex said. "It's a brilliant foundation. With props and costumes it will work even better. But it's missing that special something that grabs people and makes them listen."

"We've pushed ourselves so hard," Andie started to say.

"I'm not denying that," Alex said in a short tone, "But it _is _missing something. Surely you guys can feel that?"

The room fell quiet and Alex looked to Blake with sad eyes. He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug.

She made and angry noise at the back of her throat. "I need some ice cream."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't open..." he checked his watch. "Until eleven thirty now."

"He used to open for us," she murmured in an irritated tone, pacing. She was angry for the students. She felt like they were being let down by her.

"I'm lost," Andie whispered beside Chase, "what does ice cream have to do with the benefits concert?"

"When they danced together," Chase hissed back, "they used to go to the local ice cream parlour for inspiration. I can't remember what it's called; I only went there once or twice, but whenever they were stuck on a dance, Blake would grab a Neapolitan and Alex would have the Toffee Crunch, and after half an hour, they'd know what to do." He paused, looking at Blake and Alex who were talking quietly. Moose was wiping his hat off. Sophie looked murderous. "The parlour's got a picture of them on the wall; the guy who owns it would open early if Alex or Blake banged on the window." Andie nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. "I wish we could go for ice cream then," she said sadly.

Alex looked at her. "What did you say?"

Andie sat up, open mouthed. "Chase just explained the ice cream thing to me; I...I...just said...we should go for ice cream then."

Alex nodded and crossed her arms, staring at Blake. "Let's go for ice cream then." Blake looked at her in shock and shook his head. "No, no, you know I can't; without permission slips and insurance forms..."

Alex had already begun to walk out of the studio, followed by the others.

"Alex! They can't leave on an unofficial school trip." He paused. "I'll be slaughtered by the board. They will literally sacrifice me in front of their parents."

She poked her head around the door, holding up some keys and met his panicking face with a grin. "Come on Blake, a Neapolitan awaits you."

*****

Andre Facinelli couldn't contain his excitement when he heard a tell-tale knock on the window of the shop downstairs which he hadn't heard in years. Sure enough, there they were. His favourite customers; Alexandra still grinning and looking alive and Blake beside her, looking more nervous and serious, were outside the window with a large group of teenagers behind them. Andre smiled warmly. He was used to the seriousness of the male counterpart of his favourite dancing duo.

"The shop doesn't open until eleven thirty," Andre said in a thick Italian accent, opening the door to his ice cream parlour. "Crazy kids."

Alex wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. "Andre, this is an emergency. Do not deny us entry to the Parlour of Inspiration," she pleaded.

He smiled, and his greying mustache twitched. He placed his hands on his belly, which had grown a little since he had last seen her pretty face and pretended to think.

"I don't know; you not visit Uncle Andre in...Nine years. And you expect favours, just like...that?" he said clicking his fingers.

Alex pouted slightly. "You know, I haven't eaten hardly any ice cream over that _long _time, and what little I did eat, only disappointed me in comparison to yours," she added with a grave face.

"Flattery," Andre beamed waving them in, "will gain you passage to my humble store. Sit down and tell me what you would like."

Andre, as it turned out, had every ice cream you could possibly want or could imagine – within reason. "I like to experiment," he mused while he scooped a large helping of cookie dough into a bowl for Moose, "But I'm not going to put crazy things together like...fish tails and a raisin."

The students laughed as they got their ice cream and slid into a large round booth.

"Ah, Miss Alex," Andre crooned, "Toffee Crunch, with the tiny marshmallows." He handed her a bowl. "I give you a little extra," he whispered, with a wink. Alex took her bowl grateful and picked up a spoon. "Andre," she smiled. "You know me so well."

Andre beamed at the young woman and then turned his attention to Blake. "So, Mister Collins, are you still a Neapolitan man or have you changed in the last decade." He watched a small smile creep across Blake's face. "No, I'll have the usual."

"And a wafer?"

"Of course the wafer."

Blake slid into the booth next to Alex and took a mouthful of his favourite ice cream. This had been a great idea; he could feel the worry ebbing from him and the feeling of familiarity and comfort washing over him. It was hot outside and ice cream was perfect.

"So," Andre said softly, pulling up a chair, "what brings you to Andre?"

"We hosting a benefits concert for MSA," Alex said licking her spoon. Blake tried not to watch her, but she still played around with her food and cutlery like she did when she was a teen. He felt a heavy pair of eyes on him and caught Chase looking just before the boy looked down at his bowl of chocolate.

"Is MSA in need of benefit?" Andre joked. Blake nodded. "Unfortunately."

"I heard you were the Director now Mister Blake, but Miss Alex...well...she is a pleasant surprise."

"She's my reinforcement," Blake said, smiling weakly, ignoring the nudge of Alex's elbow from the left and swallowing some strawberry ice cream.

It took ten minutes to fill Andre in on the happenings over the past months, excluding the arguments, and the group spent another ten throwing ideas around. Sophie, who had seemed very sullen coming from the school, had cheered up remarkably with a bowl of summer fruits in front of her. "We just need one solid thing to improve it."

"We could...project past dancers onto the back screen at the start; before the music comes on," Hair suggested enthusiastically.

"All good ideas; and things we could include," Blake said pushing an empty bowl from in front of him. Alex had reclined slightly and was resting her head on the back of the dark vinyl seat. "It's missing something," she mumbled.

Moose looked up from his bowl, spoon in hand and looked around at them.

"You guys," he laughed.

Andre smiled. He hoped someone would say it, and they certainly wouldn't have listened to old Andre.

"What?" Alex said wearily.

"You guys. You're the missing piece," Moose said excitedly. "How can we do a dance about then and now without actually including the past?"

"We couldn't possibly..."

"Blake," Chase said frowning at him.

"But it's your _showcase_, and teachers aren't supposed..."

"It's the _benefits concert _too, and ex dance champions would give it an edge, you have to admit," Andie retorted.

The two teachers fell silent. Blake had to admit, he had already begun to picture it in his mind; how it should look, which segment of the music it would work best to. He couldn't tell whether Alex was. Her face was blank and he couldn't read her eyes.

"We need to get back," she said finally, pushing the bowl forward.

"No," Andie said forcibly. "We don't leave until you decide whether it's a yes or no." Alex looked at her incredulously but then lost the will to maintain it. She glanced briefly at Blake who was looking serious once more.

"I guess the Andre's ice cream has still got it," he managed to say. "They got their flash of information," he said sarcastically.

Alex had remained blank and he could feel her visibly stiffen beside him. Chase was watching him again. "Andie," Chase murmured. "Let's talk about it when we get back."

One by one they filed out of the small shop leaving Alex and Blake with Andre. "I'll settle the bill," Alex said quietly. "Go start the engine," she added, chucking him the keys.

"Working together once again, eh?" Andre smiled.

"Yeah," Alex replied looking at her feet. "Yeah, that's the issue I think."

"You were a good team!"

Alex stayed quiet and leafed through her purse, pulling out two twenty dollar bills and handed them to Andre. He shook his head. "On the house," he said softly.

"Don't be ridiculous, Andre," she snapped. "There was over twenty of us. You can't afford to lose that much business."

Andre looked at her silently and raised an eyebrow. "You are more angry than you used to be, Miss Alex."

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have snapped. But you have to take it," she insisted handing him the money. Seeing no sense in arguing with her, he took it.

"Where is the harm in dancing with him again?"

"The whole situation is filled with harm Andre, I..." she paused as Andie popped her head around the door. "Director C say's hurry up."

Alex rolled her eyes and forced herself to smile at the kind old man. He touched her hand as she went o leave. "Alex, it will be just like old times."

"Yeah," she said bitterly. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	13. First Steps

Chapter 13 – First Steps

MSA, Eleven Years Ago

Alex watched his figure through the glass of the studio door and weighed up the advantages and disadvantages. He was a good dancer; she could see that from where she stood, nervously shifting her balance from one foot to the other. She _had _been hand-picked. She sighed. Damn her ego.

Blake stopped dancing as he heard the creak of the door and turned to see the girl walking across the floor towards him. He had to admit, he didn't think she'd show up. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he might have to dance with Freda Philips, the blonde haired girl Alex had interrupted. But he had obviously underestimated Hale's pride. Blake took a bottle of water from his bag and took a drink.

"I didn't think you'd come," he said with a smirk. Alex shrugged.

"How could I turn down the lead in the Blake Collin's show?" she said mockingly. "Besides," she added, dumping her duffel bag at the side of the room and pulling out her ballet shoes, "I'd have to look for my own partner sooner or later, so I've killed two birds with one stone really."

"_You've _killed two birds with one stone? I don't believe you were even going to audition." Blake smiled at her as she tied her ribbons. She looked up, her hair falling across her face.

"Well, it was obviously predestined," she said sarcastically, straightening up.

Blake didn't say anything. He waited patiently as she warmed up. He tried hard not to watch her but he couldn't deny how intrigued he had been by her performance the other day. She had fused ballet, dancing that he knew well and loved, with something unfamiliar; a little more modern and feminine. She had listened carefully to the beat and the melody of the song and moved effortlessly and in time with it. Blake had spoke about it incessantly to his mother and father, the only people he could admit to that he had been wholly impressed with Alex. He could never tell her that, although he knew she would interpret his selection of her for her own ego. The student populace had talked non-stop about her audition and 'that pretty Hale girl getting one up on King Collins'. He detested the jokes about royalty.

"Ok, your majesty, I'm ready," she half-smiled. Blake winced.

"Please, don't call me that," he found himself saying.

She frowned at him. "Sorry, it's just everyone..."

"Don't. Don't do what everyone else does," he murmured coldly.

She didn't know what to make of him. She supposed that no one had come as close to Collins as she was going to over the next few weeks and she had better be ready for some surprises. "Sorry, _Blake_," she said meaningfully, as a kind of acceptance that she would do this his way; no easy feat for someone as stubborn as Alex.

"Thank you," he said quietly with a nod, so low that Alex thought she might not have been meant to hear it.

"Right, let's get on with it," she said, filling the awkward silence. "They tell me you're _quite_ good," she teased. He raised an eyebrow. "They tell me you like to bait people; it won't work with me."

"We'll see," she said moving closer and allowing him to direct her into the first position he wanted her in. "You look quite easily 'stirred'." He rolled his eyes and lifted her arms to fifth. "Shut up," he said in a low voice in her ear. "I didn't pick you for your mouth."

*****

It had happened quite accidently, but a few months later they were dating. It shocked the entire student body of MSA, not to mention the faculty, but most of all the two teenagers involved. Alex had always supposed Blake detested her, but respected her dancing ability and that was the only reason he had put up with her as a dance partner. She _did_ push him further than she would anyone else. His reaction was the funniest. She couldn't resist winding him up. But the more she danced with him, the more she realised he was nothing like the Blake Collins she had been introduced to by Jayne and the other students she knew. He was proud but he wasn't arrogant. He was shy, not snobbish. He was rich but he got very little of it from his parents. They poured their money into the school – their third child.

Blake discovered very quickly that Alex was very different from MSA girls. She was as structured, and as disciplined, but her passion shone through her dance. She infuriated him for the first few weeks by teasing him and ignoring him but he let her test her boundaries. She never called him "majesty" or "Prince" or "King Collins" again though. He had been quite literally unable to stop himself when, in the third month into their partnership, she stood in front of him, lecturing _him _on how to hold _his_ arms near the end of his piece. She made his skin boil in exasperation some times. He hadn't the heart to regret reaching forward and kissing her on her shocked mouth, and found it impossible to curse his lack of control when she kissed him back, dropping his arms from where she was repositioning them.

No one had been more pleasantly surprised than Blake and Alex.


	14. Factors and Equations

Chapter 14 – Factors and Equations

_**Dedicated to Twannee – for sticking with me in my obsession.**_

_**And to curlysweet who is a dedicated reviewer and very kind to my Blakie fanfic.**_

"How is the apple sauce, Alex?" Frances asked, sipping some wine. The young woman looked from her plate where she had been solely focused, and smiled. She nodded, and swallowed what she was chewing. "Delicious, thank you," she said half heartedly.

Alex would not have come if she hadn't of already told Frances Collins she would. She had done her best to avoid Blake since Thursday, and the other students, and here she sat faced with Blake _and_ Chase. She could already feel them cornering her.

"Blake," Chase smiled, obviously enjoying their discomfort. "You're a bit quiet."

"I'm enjoying the food that Mom has cooked for us, Chase," Blake retorted, pushing a roast potato onto his fork and not looking at his brother. "It doesn't require your running commentary."

Chase grinned.

"So Alex," Frances said, cutting her pork into smaller chunks, "Chase tells me that you and Blake are going to be reunited on the MSA stage."

Both Blake and Alex looked up at the blonde boy, who had no hat to hide behind now, and scowled. "My bad," he grinned, pushing some greens across his plate. Alex sighed and looked back at her dinner.

"Aren't you excited to be back on the stage, Alex?" Frances asked placing down her cutlery.

"Not really, no," she admitted, glancing at Blake briefly before settling her eyes on Frances. There was a clang as Blake set down his knife and fork to and reached for his orange juice.

"You're not?" he said through a clenched jaw.

"Not really."

Chase looked at his brother, whose jaw was so tight a muscle was twitching and jumping, although he had turned his eyes back to the plate. "Well," he managed, "if the idea repulsed so much, why did you agree to it?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that."

Blake began chewing something and raised an eyebrow. Swallowing he replied. "Like what?"

"Like it's a personal thing. We haven't danced together in front of an audience in years. Excuse me if I'm not keen." She poured herself some water. "It's a nerves thing, not a 'Blake Collins thing'." She went to add something but bit her tongue and carried on eating.

"You guys danced in front of us; you showed me and Andie and the others how to do it remember?" Chase chipped in; pushing his tongue around his mouth, with his fork in hand.

"Chase, you have a knife, use it," Frances scolded.

The boy picked up his knife, showed them to his mother and looked back to Alex.

"Yeah, but it was you guys. Maximum twenty people. They'll be over five hundred at the concert and I..." she paused and closed her eyes. "Whatever. I said I'd do it, so don't worry."

Blake looked at her. "No, what?"

"Dancing in front of that many people with you again is a big deal!" Alex said, exasperated.

"Well, if you were more professional, it would be easy for you..."

"Don't you _dare_ lecture me on professionalism!"

"Please!" Frances shouted above them. "I will _not _have this at my dinner table. Alex," she said turning towards the woman on her left, who was quietly seething now and had to set down her cutlery so they didn't see how badly she was shaking, "you will be fine. You're a natural; I know; I've seen many naturals in my time. There's no such thing as 'out of touch' for you." She turned to her son. "And _Blake_, I am disgusted at your behaviour. Insulting your dance partner's professionalism is not considered gentlemen-like."

"Mother, she insulted me all the way through our dance career..."

"I have told you not to call me Mother!"

Frances' final retort, sharp and loud, made everyone fall into an awkward silence, where they stayed for a few moments, with only the sound of Frances tapping her nails on the table. Suddenly a smile crept across Chase's face and he begun to laugh quietly. Blake looked at him. "Oh shut up," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, but that whole thing? Pretty hilarious. Even you Mom," Chase said, still chuckling, pointing a fork at his mother. Frances too had begun to smile, covering her mouth with her hand. Alex looked down and fought the smile forming on her lips.

Even the corner of Blake's mouth was turning upwards.

*****

Chase walked into the kitchen of their parent's house to find Blake already washing up, as he had done for every meal since Blake was ten, with Chase drying beside him as soon as he was old enough. Picking up a towel, he leaned against the side and picked up a plate. " Mom's going up for a bath."

Blake nodded.

"Alex has gone now."

Another nod as his brother placed a glass on the drying rack.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm...tired."

Chase felt a prickle of protection on his spine - his brother was not ok, something was wrong, how could he fix this – all the uncontrollable questions made him feel nine years old again. But this was a situation that he could handle. He knew why Blake was behaving this way.

"It's ok," Chase trod gently, "you can admit it to me."

Blake glanced at him with a little interest. "What are you talking about?" he asked shortly.

"Alex."

"What about her?"

"Blake," Chase smiled, "you still love her, don't you?"

Blake swallowed hard and placed another plate on the rack. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm your brother, I can tell..."

"Shut up, Chase."

"It's a yes no question, Blake."

"It is not as simple as 'yes' or 'no'; there are factors and there's past..." he paused looking at his brother's smirk. "I don't love her," Blake said in a hollow voice.

"Blake," Chase started.

"I don't want to hear it."

Chase watched his brother's face. Still calm, still blank. But the twitching jaw muscle gave him away again.

"Come on, I've been watching you. Little looks, smiles, occasionally touches." Chase examined the glass he was drying and when satisfied, put it down. Blake narrowed his eyes at him. "It's ok; you're not going to burn in hell for admitting it."

"Chase," his brother said, his voice laced with anger. "_Drop it_."

Chase shrugged. "Whatever. I can't believe you're going to let her go again."

Blake glanced at him. "What are you talking about _now_?" he asked clearly nervous.

Chase put down what he was drying and looked at him with a small smile. "You don't think she'll stick around after this is all over. She'll have absolutely no reason to, unless you actually pull your finger _out _and tell her _that you love her_."

Blake stopped and exhaled deeply. Chase thought he'd got him, touched the right nerve, and maybe Blake would tell him the truth, but his brother pulled his hands out of the hot water and yanked the towel from Chase. "You finish," Blake muttered in a low voice as he dried his hands aggressively and threw the towel back to Chase with force. He left the room. Chase winced as the door to Blake's room slammed. He sighed.

He'd certainly touched the right nerve.


	15. Casualties Of War

Chapter 15 – Casualties of War

Blake put his hands on his hips. "You could do it before."

"But I can't now."

The students sighed. Alex and Blake had fought solidly all week and this morning was no different. Blake was losing his temper quickly and Alex was being stubborn, and vice versa. It was impossible to tell either of them that were being petty or wasting time without limping away, severely injured by an angry glare or the pair's tongues lashing them.

Now they were arguing because of the routine they were supposed to be doing, alongside Chase and Andie, at the concert.

"It's a simple step," Blake said impatiently, rolling his sleeves up.

"I know; I'm not a novice," Alex said angrily, tying her ribbons tighter. "It doesn't come easily though, the _thirty third time _you do it, especially when you're partner has his timing wrong."

"I'm sorry; do you need a break?" he said patronisingly. Alex looked up at him with a glare. "I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm fine." Moose glanced at Sophie who shrugged, and then in turn to Chase and Andie who had raised eyebrows. "_What _happened at the weekend? I don't like Mom and Dad fighting," he hissed. Chase shook his head.

"Um, Director Collins, Alex," Sophie ventured carefully, stepping over to them quietly. "_We're _going to take a break, ok?"

"Fine," they snapped in unison, making the girl jump.

"Ok!" she smiled and the class scampered out of the studio quickly, breathing the air that wasn't thick with conflict greedily.

*****

"Alex," Andie called out, after rehearsal had finished and Alex was just leaving. "Wait up!"

Alex turned wearily to see Andie running towards her, pulling on a zip up jumper and carrying her sports bag. Alex was tired; she felt like her nerves were frayed and that she hadn't slept for the last few months. "What is it?" she said curtly.

"I just wanted some help with something," Andie said carefully, "should I ask another time?" she added, seeing her director's strained eyes and pale face.

"No," Alex said, shaking her head, "what's the matter?"

"It's the step after the classical interlude of the song; I keep tripping up on it. Blake's laying into me about it but I can't seem to get the timing on that part..." she trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"Urm," Alex said frowning, "well, if you start counting from the end of the final beat..."

She carefully explained to Andie how she should best go about it and showed her briefly as they walked what the move should look like. Coming to some stairs and going to down them, Andie smiled.

"Ok," she said, "I think I've got it. Thanks."

"No problem," Alex said blankly.

"Are you ok?" Andie asked, gripping the railing. "If you don't mind me prying."

"I'm very tired." Andie nodded. "But nothing that an early night won't...oh!"

Alex cried out as she lost her footing, something that didn't often happen to her, and fell down a couple of steps, into a heap at the bottom. Andie rushed forward to help her but Alex was already sitting up and putting herself up onto a step to look at her leg.

"Are you ok?" Andie said with a panicky voice.

"Yeah," Alex said wincing as she pulling up the leg of her sweat pants. "I'm fine...ouch."

"What's wrong? It's not broken?" Andie looked at her horrified.

"No, don't be stupid," she laughed, but seeing Andie's hurt face, she stopped. "No, sorry Andie, it's just a sprain. I lost my footing."

"Well, can I get anything?"

Alex looked around at where she was. The school was deserted; with rehearsal over everyone had left, although she was sure Blake was probably in his office, two floors up. Alex nodded. "Yeah, some ice please. In the top of the freezer in the staff lounge. Please, humour me, but be as silent as the grave and don't let Blake see you."

Andie looked at her in confusion but hurried anyway. She needn't have worried; Blake had sat down in the chair in his office, head in hands and fallen asleep almost as soon as he'd laid back and shut his eyes.

Returning, Andie handed Alex the ice, thoughtfully wrapped in a tea towel she'd found. Alex murmured some thanks and put it on her ankle, praying the swelling would go down swiftly.

"This is bad," Andie said sitting on the floor in front of her. "No," Alex said, shaking her head. "I've had worse. It's my fault; this always happens when I work myself too hard – last time I pulled an all-nighter trying to perfect a routine and fell badly on my ankle pirouetting."

Andie looked at her ankle, unsure of what to do. It was very pink and a little swollen but growing by the minute.

"The concert's in two days," she mumbled.

"So?" Alex said frowning at her ankle. "What's your point?"

Andie stared at her open mouthed. "I don't know much about ballet I'll admit, but I know you should rest that."

"Yeah, and I will, _Doctor West_, when I get home," Alex joked.

"I'm serious, you have to tell Blake. You shouldn't dance on that," Andie said.

Alex touched her arm swiftly as if to stop her from standing up, although Andie hadn't moved. "Andie, I need you to promise me, _promise me, _that you will _not_ tell Blake about this."

"What? Now _you're _being stupid."

"I'm serious," Alex laughed, but her concern was evident in her eyes which hadn't left Andie's face, along with her hand – still firmly pressed on the girl's arm. "You can't say _anything._"

"Why not?"

"Because he'll stop me from doing the concert."

"Yeah, which he should." Andie looked up the stairs, in the direction of Blake's office. "You can't dance on that," she repeated.

"Andie, sweetheart," Alex said closing her eyes and resting her head on the cool wall. She could feel her patience decreasing as her ankle throbbed. "It isn't that bad a sprain. I sprained my ankle right before my final showcase and Blake never knew."

Andie looked dubious.

"Honestly," Alex said. Her eyes were sincere.

"He never noticed?"

"No."

Andie sighed. "Can you walk on it?" Alex hesitated, tempted to lie, but she shook her head. "Not right now, but if I rest it and sit down where I can, by rehearsal I'll be fine. I'm hardly a fossil; I heal quickly."

"Surely Blake will notice..."

"Andie," Alex pleaded.

The girl paused, thinking it over. Most of the lights of the school had been turned off and a janitor was locking the store cupboard at the end of the corridor. She sighed. "Fine," she said, helping Alex up. "But if he asks you, you're on your own. I won't tell him, but what he figures out for himself..."

"Thank you Andie," Alex said in a strained voice, leaning on the girl for support. "I'll be ok, don't worry."

"You're ankle might be," Andie said helping her walk to the door. "But you're certifiable, you know that?"

"It's been said before," Alex smiled as they pushed through the entrance of the school into the cool evening.


	16. The Concert

Chapter 16 – The Concert

Blake shook hands with the Dean from New York and excused himself to catch his mother who was hovering by the buffet. "I'd forgotten how good salmon parcels from Zanzibar's were," she murmured to him as he stood next to her, scanning the room. MSA's grand foyer had been transformed once again by the art department and their clever use of fairy lights and draping fabrics.

"You know..."

"I know; Marcel won't let me eat anything that even _looks _like pastry." Marcel – the nutritionist – had been politely yet forcefully telling the Collin's family what to eat in broken English for almost thirty years now. "You can keep a secret Blake," his mother cooed, popping the rest of the small snack into her mouth and chewing slowly.

"Yes, Mom."

She regarded her son's face; devoid of emotion save the tight muscle in his jaw. "Nervous, darling?" she asked gently pushing back a bit of hair from his forehead. He rolled his eyes. "Mom, baby me at home _not_ when we're in front of potential benefactors of my school, _please."_

She lowered her hand and smiled, smoothing her shift dress. "Where is Alex?"

"That's who I'm looking for."

Frances again watched her son's face looking for a change in emotion. Instead, he looked down at his feet. "I hope it goes well tonight," he admitted. Ignoring his earlier request, the blonde haired woman grabbed his face, taking him entirely by surprise and squeezed it gently. "Darling, you're a Collins. You'll be fine."

*****

It had been a miracle but the swelling in her ankle had gone down, and Blake hadn't noticed. Alex had prayed silently every time she walked into the studio or his office over the last two days; _please, please, let me not walk with a limp. Let him be completely oblivious. _ Sure, it'd hurt like hell to dance on it but no one seemed to mind the silence that she forced herself into for fearing of cussing profusely and screaming uncontrollably. She'd used her own bodyweight in ice also. It was a wonder no one had queried why she kept going to the bathroom.

Still, Alex felt a small sense of pride for working her way through it. At eighteen, well, that was nothing. But close to thirty; she was a saint.

She helped herself to an orange juice form the drinks table and smiled at the student who had kindly given up their Saturday to serve the crème de la crème of the dancing world. Looking at it that way, it was a hardly a sacrifice, Alex thought as she watched a famous Russian ballet dancer stalk by in a sparkling gown.

"Alex-andra Hale," someone behind her said loudly, dragging out each syllable. She winced and closed her eyes. "Didn't know if I'd see you."

She turned on her heels with a forced smile. "Brett," she said through her teeth. "You're here."

A tall dirty blonde haired man with broad shoulders and a square jaw looked at her with a grin. "They said you'd come back to Baltimore and I couldn't believe it," he practically slurred in his Southern drawl. "And you're looking fantastic," he added, letting his eyes fall on her plain black dress.

She maintained her smile. "You scrub up alright yourself", she said looking at his tuxedo. "Why _are_ you here, as a matter of asking?"

"Oh, NY sent me, to scout for talent," he said raising his eyebrow and looking around. "Is there much?"

"What?"

"Talent," he smirked, taking a sip of champagne.

"Plenty," she said, feeling her protective side rising in defence of the students. "They're extremely talented here; that's to say, dance-wise _and _they'remusically diverse, and they work damned harder than any students I've ever seen when it comes to wanting to better themselves."

"Relax, relax," Brett laughed. "I shoulda known you'd be fierce about it being MSA alumni and all."

She smirked. "Of course."

"I heard there was a lot of trouble with gang violence," he said in a low voice.

"No," Alex waved a hand. "That was a misunderstanding." She had caught Blake's eye across the room, where he stood with his mother, and when Brett had turned to look to his right she mouthed the words _help me_ and widened her eyes. Confused, he put down his glass and walked over anyway, not entirely sure what he was walking into. Brett had turned back, his dark eyes focused on Alex who was beginning to feel unclean under his gaze, and smiled at her once more.

"So, when are you gonna come back to the City," Brett murmured above the noise of the crowd. Alex moved her mouth but struggled to form words. "I..."

"Excuse me, Alex?" Blake said joining them, speaking first to Brett and then turning to his dance partner who was thanking him silently with her eyes. "You're needed backstage."

"Oh! Urm, thanks Blake, and...See you around Brett," she said excusing herself swiftly. A hand on her arm pulled her back and she looked at it with a raised eyebrow. "Wait a minute, Lexie," Brett laughed. "_This _is Blake."

Alex looked from Blake's face who was smirking at 'Lexie', to Brett's. "Urm, yeah, this is Blake."

"Blake Collins? _Blake Colli..._well, I'll be damned," he exclaimed extending a hand towards Blake. "Pleased to meet you. Brett Crossley. I graduated from NYBS the same year as Alex here, and I teach ballet at the old school."

"A NY friend of Alex's? I hadn't realised she had any," Blake said shaking Brett's hand. Both men gripped tightly and Blake could tell it was a battle of wills.

"Well, none that go as far back as you and her," Brett joked, nudging Blake's shoulder as he sipped some more champagne and handed his empty glass to a student. Blake looked at Alex whose face displayed the signs of wanting to go and die somewhere.

"Please, excuse me," she said with a forced smile and she slipped through the crowd.

Brett whistled. "What a woman."

Blake turned to him. "Sorry?" he said, unable to mask his annoyance.

"She's a fantastic dancer. I wanted to be her partner but she was on the Bartrum so did the majority solo," he said wistfully. "If only!"

Blake could feel his shoulder muscles tensing with disgust. "So you teach? At NYBS?"

"Yeah, since I graduated. They offered Alex a place too but she moved on." Blake internally applauded her for that decision, because without having had a proper conversation with the man, he hated him.

"They'll probably offer her the Director-ship though, if this goes down well," Brett continued, breaking Blake from his thoughts.

Blake paused and stiffened. "What?"

Brett looked at him sideways. "The partnered directorship of NYBS is coming up for review and word is Alex is tipped for one of those positions."

Blake felt his heart sink and his tongue grow silence as he took in the information Brett had told him. _Director-ship of NYBS. _He smiled. "Wow, quite the...opportunity." _It'll be a great opportunity._

Chase's voice filled his mind. _"You don't think she'll stick around after this is all over? She'll have absolutely no reason to..."_

"I wonder if she'll take it," he said aloud, with a polite smile. Brett laughed. "Of course she will! She loves New York."

Blake nodded. "Please, excuse me; I have to get backstage also..." he paused. "It was...nice to meet you."

He turned his back on the man and avoiding anyone else he may have to talk to, Blake snuck through the crowd to the back stage area.

*****

Blake changed, stretched for a while and went to find his final years stretching and mobilising their joints ready for the performance. It wasn't difficult to see that they were nervous and none of them tried to mask it well; Moose looked like he was about to be sick. "I should have stayed in tech," he muttered. Sophie placed a hand on his back as he bent over breathing deeply.

"This is it," she murmured with a smile. Alex nodded. "You'll be fine guys," she said but her voice shook slightly.

"Five minutes," cried a girl with a microphone headset. The students went to take their positions either side of the stage leaving Blake and Alex in the darkness of the wings.

"Are you ready?" she asked with a smirk, nudging his elbow gently. "There are a lot of people out there," she added in a sing song voice.

"Don't you worry about me," he chided gently. "_Lexie."_

She groaned. "Please, don't call me that. Thank you, by the way. For bailing me out." She clenched her hands tightly. "Vile, conceited..." she trailed off and Blake chuckled. "Not a fan?"

"To say I want to tear his intestines out each time I have the misfortune to meet him is an understatement." Blake smiled quietly.

"Come now," he started, "you went to NYBS with him for a long time. You must have liked him." He stared out on to the stage.

Alex turned her head slowly towards him. "I didn't date him, if that's what you're fishing about," she said haughtily. "Can we not fight about this now?" she pleaded. Her ankle was beginning to ache so she rested her weight on her other leg. She cursed in her head; not now. _Any other time._

"Don't make the mistake of thinking I was concerned with your love life," he replied curtly. "I was merely questioning..."

"Two minutes guys!"

Blake loosened his shoulders and replied more calmly. "...what I mean is; you're not usually so...violent. I thought maybe you'd had a disagreement with him over something."

"No, he's just a..." she sighed wearily. "We _do not _mix well."

Blake nodded thoughtfully. "He wanted to be your dance partner."

"Yeah, and the rest." She tutted. "That man is insufferable."

Blake opened his mouth in the dark, wondering whether to bite his tongue. "He also said..."

"Director Collins," hissed the girl with the headset, handing him a microphone, "You're up!"

Alex touched his hand as he moved away. "Good luck, Blake."

He nodded and let his fingers brush hers before he stepped out into the bright lights that lit the stage.

*****

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Blake said, bringing the microphone to his mouth with one hand and slipping the other into his pocket trouser pocket. "I'd like to welcome you here this evening to the annual Maryland School for the Arts Showcase." Applause rang out through the auditorium and Blake waited for them to finish.

"Firstly, you'll have to excuse my attire," he smiled, gesturing to himself. "As part of the theme and choreography of tonight's main showcase, I've had to don some more suitable garments completely forgetting that I would, of course, be addressing you." There was a rumble of laughter from the audience and Blake began to relax.

"Secondly, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you about the students that you're about to watch. Tonight, the final year students of MSA would like to present to you not only their technical ability in the field of dance with the hope of securing themselves places at the best schools in the country, but also their passion and their dedication. I've only been here for two years but during that time I have watched these students grow, better themselves, overcome hardships, gain friendships and ultimately become the adults that will take over teaching the next generation of dancers. I've taught them, but I've also _learnt_ a few things from them as well," he added with a smile, picturing Andie's and Moose's smug faces.

He paused briefly, feeling the heat of the lights. It was disconcerting not being able to see anyone's faces. "The theme for tonight's show – then and now, dancing through the ages – was not an easy one to prepare for. There have been tears and fights as they worked hard to choreograph this over the last several months but also many happy memories and it's taken one hundred per cent commitment and...Lots of ice cream," he joked. Another murmur of laughter.

"I don't want to keep your attention from them any longer; there is of course the opportunity to donate towards the school, should you like what you see but we'll come to that later. So, without further ado, please put your hands together for the students of MSA."

He moved into the wings quickly as the lights dimmed, allowing everyone to get in their positions. The crowd applauded. Blake took in a deep breath. Alex exhaled beside him.

_This was it._


	17. Aftermath

Chapter 17 – Aftermath

The feeling after the dance was euphoric and Andie couldn't contain her happiness when she ran into the wings, caught Chase's eye and saw that his face mirrored hers; a broad grin and bright eyes. She skipped over and kissed him. "That..._that..._was amazing," she breathed. "That was worth...everything."

He nodded and closed his eyes as he laid his forehead to hers. "And the instrumental with Blake and Alex? Totally blew the audience," Moose said coming over and draping his arms around the pair.

"How could you tell?" Sophie said rolling her eyes, "You couldn't _see _them."

"_Homegirl_," Moose crooned pulling his hat off, "I could _sense_ their amazement." Sophie laughed and he planted a kiss on her smiling mouth.

Alex pulled off her blocks and nursed her ankle which had held out but was feeling hot now. Looking down the bruising had come up now. Darn, she'd done it in pretty badly. Maybe now the showcase was over she could rest it. "You ok?" Andie asked placing a hand on her teacher's back. Alex looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. But you guys were outstanding. I mean, if you don't all get places at dance schools..." she trailed off and punched an open palm. The students laughed.

Blake meandered over carrying his own ballet shoes, smiling weakly and play punched Chase's shoulder. "Good, not great, could do better," he joked, and Chase cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yeah whatever, bro. That was dope and you know it."

Blake closed his eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to say this but seeing as you all worked so hard...yes, that was 'sick'," he laughed. The group of students gathered round him cheered and roared with laughter before he raised his hands and said "OK, Ok, that's enough."

"Come on, make yourselves presentable. There's going to be a lot of people who want to talk to you," Alex said raising an eyebrow and heading to the changing rooms.

****

Alex shook hands with another man who had congratulated her and Blake on the performance and began to wonder where on earth Blake was. Pushing that to the back of her mind, she went over to the drinks table; her mouth was dry and she had been gasping for a drink since the showcase finished. Leaning casually on the table and gulping her cold water, she spotted Andie talking to Heloise Kinsley, the Director of Washington School of Ballet. Alex smiled; her friend Jayne had chosen WSD in the end, even though Texas stood as an equal.

"_It won't be as hot in Washington," Jayne joked. "But what's the point? I'm a red head – how much of a tan will I get!"_

Andie looked pensive for a moment and then grinned broadly, shaking the woman's hand energetically. Alex smiled.

"Wow," said a voice to her right. "You show stopper you," Brett laughed.

"What?" Alex said, confused and losing her temper.

"You and Blake! Well, you mainly. I couldn't take my eyes off _you_," he said leering at her.

She slammed down her glass. "Tell me, Brett; didn't New York send you to look out for _talent_?"

"Yes," he said quietly, clearly surprised by her tone.

"Then maybe you should have paid more attention to the rest of the people on the stage; fantastic students, _talented students,_ that surpass you _by miles_," she spat angrily, "instead of staring at and pursuing a woman who detests you to her absolute core." She walked away feeling the heat of the room and suddenly wondering, _where the hell was Blake? _Why had he left her to deal with all of this?

"Oh!" she cried as she bumped into someone. "Sorry I wasn't looking where I was going," she apologised, looking up to see Matthew Rotherway with Margaret Bincher in tow.

"That's ok; did you give Crossley what he deserved?" the man smirked looking over Alex's shoulder at Brett who was still standing at the drinks table looking annoyed. "He makes me hate the South," Matthew said in a low voice, looking at her over his dark rimmed glasses.

"Not nearly enough. He got away lightly," Alex admitted. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, we were wondering if we could have a word," smiled Margret taking her hand.

*****

Andie splashed her face with water and tried to stop her face from beaming wildly by holding her cold hands to her face. A couple of years ago she was going nowhere. She laughed. Well, maybe as far as Texas, back to her Aunt. Now look at her – MSA graduate, fantastic boyfriend, great friends...a place at an awesome dance school, certainly one that focused on modern dance. She never would have thought...She bit her lip. When she'd walked into the hall, Sarah had been the first person to greet her, crying with pride and love, and embracing Andie and enveloping her in her arms.

"If your Mom had seen that," Sarah choked into Andie's ear. "_Jeez_, Sarah; you're making me cry," Andie sniffed. "I can't cry in front of these guys," she gestured to the crew. "I have a reputation."

Charlie kicked her foot and looked up with his hands in his pockets. "What'd ya think little man?"

"Awesome!" he squealed.

Seeing their faces, everyone's faces, it had all been worth the effort. Andie let her hair down and tucked the tie into her pocket. Andie West, professional dancer. It certainly had a nice ring to it.

She pushed the door to the bathroom and immediately heard someone say her name. "Andie!" It was Alex, who looked flustered, worried and tired all at the same time.

"Andie, I'm glad I found you; have you seen Blake?" she asked. Andie nodded. "Yeah I think I saw him slip into the studio."

Alex's face fell. "Oh no," she murmured.

"Is something wrong?"

"Probably. I don't know," Alex said touching her arm and walking towards the studio. "I gotta go!"

"Ok..."

"Oh wait!" Alex stopped. "Did you get any offers?"

Andie beamed. "WSD offered; I'm gonna take it. Most of the others got Washington too, but Chase and Sophie were approached by that Brett guy. New York wants them."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "Tell them not to take New York!"

"Why?" Andie asked the woman, who was sprinting to the studio now.

"It ruined my life!" Alex called out, leaving Andie in the hallway completely bemused.

She saw him through the window, standing in his suit and staring in the mirror once more. At least he wasn't dancing, she thought. His face was blank; lost in thought. As she pushed open the door and walked in he turned to look at her, completely unsurprised that she was there.

"Ok," she began, "spit it out."

"What?" he said, frowning slightly.

"Whatever it is. Whatever's made you skulk off to here, whatever put you in a bad mood before the showcase, whatever it is that's making me feel like I'm stuck in a time warp or experiencing _extreme_ déjà vu...Spit. It. _Out."_

She was standing with her arms crossed and staring at him and all of a sudden he didn't feel like fighting under her gaze. He paused uncrossing his own arms.

"Please Blake; I'm tired, my ankle hurts..."

"What's wrong with your ankle?" he asked, snapping his head up in concern.

"Nothing, forget it. I don't have much strength for...emotion battles right now, so...please, say what you have to say." Her eyes were bright with worry.

"Did you know New York is going to offer you the partnered Directorship?" he said carefully.

She just looked at him for a moment. "Wow, what an opportunity," she said tonelessly. "What's your point?"

He frowned deeply now. "It's New York, Alex."

"Oh, I see," Alex said, closing her eyes. "And you assumed I'd take it."

Blake laughed bitterly. "Well, at risk of repeating my eighteen year old self, you'd be a fool not to."

Suddenly, she put her hands over her face and let out a cry that echoed around the whole studio, making Blake jump.

"You, _you_ are infuriating!" she spat angrily. "We could not be any more different. Of course I knew," she shouted, "of course I knew that they would offer me the job! They practically told me this was 'my chance to prove myself' I didn't come here to do that; MSA was in trouble!"

"Alex, I..."

"No, shut up. I kept my mouth shut nine years ago and it ruined everything, so _you_ can be quiet and you can listen to _me_." Blake closed his mouth and watched her. She had started to pace angrily.

"You honestly think that I _only_ came back because of that?" she asked, seeking an explanation.

"Alex, you're done here. We're gaining donations as we speak. You don't _have_ to stick around."

She stopped and looked at him. "You don't want me to stay here? This is your pig eared way of explaining it; that you want me to leave? For a _second _time."

Blake paused. "It's not that..." he stopped. He couldn't say it. "I think New York would be a better option."

"Compared to what?!"

"I don't know!" he cried. "What reason do you have to stay here?"

She shook her head. "You're right. _What_ reason _do_ I have to stay here?" She ran her fingers through her hair. He could hear her breath; sharp and shallow with anger.

"Who _told _you this?" she hissed.

"Brett Crossley."

"Did you also know he's being considered for the directorship? Along with Gracie Mumbembwe. You know her, she studied in London."

He nodded. "No, I didn't know that they were..."

"With that in mind," she interrupted. "Do you now, honestly think I would take that job?" She stared at him. "Would I take the job Blake?"

"You'd have to weigh it up; how much you disliked him versus the job."

Alex opened her mouth wide in exasperation. "You're kidding me? You think I would?"

"I think you _should." _He paused. "I realise Brett Crossley is..."

"This is not about _Brett Crossley_!" she shouted. "I don't think that way! It's not about the 'next rung in the ladder' for me. Do you even know me at all Blake?"

He looked up from his feet and raised an eyebrow. "Clearly not."

"_Obviously_ not."

She put a hand over her eyes. "You're right; I'm being a 'fool'. Great job, great city. Who's to care really about the fact I have to work with a man who makes me feel sick and who I've just...openly degraded in front of a room full of people. Everyone should have my problems, right?" Blake didn't smile. "We're so different now, aren't we?" She smiled bitterly. "Worlds apart."

He frowned. "I guess so."

"You know, I thought maybe..." she stopped. "No it doesn't matter."

"What?"

"I just, thought things would change between you and me." Her face became blank and calm but her jaw was still clenched. "I hadn't realised that it would be for the worse."

"Alex..."

"No it's fine. You're right. I should thinking of the bigger picture. I've done my 'job' here. Everyone's getting into great schools as we speak." She began to walk away. "I need to go talk to some people, let them down gently."

Blake frowned, a flicker of hope sparking inside him. "Let them down...You do?"

She turned halfway out the door. "Yeah, that's...that's what I came to tell you. I just spoke to Matthew and Margaret and they offered me joint directorship with you – if you were ok with it. They haven't had joint directors here since...your parents, so, urm..." she bit her lip and watched his reaction. She couldn't make it out. "But, I'll have to tell them no, seeing as New York is _such _a great opportunity," she added sarcastically and shut the door behind her.

Blake closed his eyes and felt as if the studio floor was moving beneath him. _What had he done?_


	18. Slipping Through Your Fingers

Chapter 18 – Slipping Through Your Fingers

Chase fumbled in the dark with the key and smiled when he finally got it in the lock. Blake had turned the porch light off by accident, making it impossible for a guy to see what he was doing, so Chase tried to make his way into his own house blindly. The students had gone back to Andie's to talk and to celebrate their triumphant evening but Chase had left, worried that he hadn't seen Blake since the end of the dance.

Stumbling into the living room, Chase cussed as he tripped on a something. It was dark in here too, apart from the blinking light of the clock on the DVD player; all the lights in the house were switched off meaning Blake must be asleep. He turned on the light to see where he was going, still trying to be as quiet as he could. A shape on the couch startled him.

"Jeez, Blake," Chase laughed nervously. "You made me jump!"

"Sorry," murmured his brother, who was sunk in the couch with his back to him. Chase threw down his bag and frowned, treading cautiously. "Blake, you ok?"

"I'm very tired," was the reply, barely turning his head to look at him.

"Then why don't you go to bed, bro," Chase said with a friendly smile, walking around to look at his brother. Blake's face was drawn; indeed, he did look tired but his eyes were wide and staring. His right hand was clutching a scotch glass.

"Blake! Have you been _drinking?" _Chase said, in shock.

Blake looked at the glass with the liquid inside and almost laughed. "Don't be stupid. It's apple juice. We had no clean glasses. And I fancied ice."

"Apple juice on the rocks,_" _Chase joked but seeing Blake was in no joking mood, went to sit beside his brother. "Ok, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Blake..." Chase said warningly.

"Which schools did you get into?"

"That's not important right now..."

"Did London or New York offer?"

"Blake!" Chase said, raising his voice in the hope that the man next to him would listen. Blake did not turn to look at Chase as he spoke.

"What?" Blake said wearily.

"What happened? It's Alex isn't it?"

Blake sat very still for a moment and suddenly, leaning forward, he laid his glass on the coffee table and put his face in his hands. A groan escaped from his enclosed mouth and Chase put a hand on his back, unsure of what to do. "Is it Alex?"

"It's all about Alex," Blake said, his voice muffled by his hands. "Everything."

"I don't follow Blake; is this because she was talking to the New York guy?" Chase tried. A heavy sigh shook Blake's body which Chase felt through his hand. "Is she going back?"

Blake sat upright and looked at him. "She is _now_, thanks to me."

"What do you have to do with it?"

"Oh, because I'm an idiot," Blake began, rising from the couch and throwing his hands in the air. "Because I always think with my head and not my heart. Because I told her what was practical, what was the best _ambition-wise, _instead of what I really feel. Because I told her to go, to leave me, _again_, when all I want her to do is stay and to not go back to New York..." he trailed off and put a hand to his forehead. Chase sat in silence and listened.

"She is going to be offered directorship of NYBS. I told her to go because I thought she would want to take it. I didn't suppose for a second she would stay here or that there was any reason for her to, so I told her that." Chase winced. "She got mad, we fought, and she's leaving." Blake sighed and closed his eyes. "Matthew Rotherway and the other board members _also_ offered her joint directorship. With me. And I as good as told her I didn't want her around."

Chase stood up to face his brother. "Blake," he started but Blake shook his head. "No, this is my doing. I was a coward and a fool and now I've lost her again." He stopped still and laughed sadly. "God, she was going to take it! She was going to stay, and I _actually _told her not to."

He started to head towards the stairs to take himself to bed but Chase caught up with him. "When does she leave?"

"I don't know; what does it matter?" said Blake looking at the ceiling.

"It matters because you're not done yet. You have time to make it right."

"Chase," Blake said rolling his eyes. "Ok, we're not you and Andie; this isn't some romantic comedy..."

"Shut up a listen for a sec ok? I know you're the big shot at school and all that," Chase said loudly, "and you think you can handle everything and that you're so responsible, but right now I'm watching you become your eighteen your old self and crumble in front of me _again_ and _I _can't watch that happen ok? It was pretty rough the first time." He paused. "So indulge the brother who gives a damn about you, and _listen_, please?"

Blake kept quiet but nodded. Chase smiled weakly.

"It is not too late to tell her how you feel," he started. "Look, and be honest this time because there is no sense in lying to yourself or to me, _do you love her?_"

Blake paused. "Yes. Yes, of course I do."

"What's stopping you from going over there and telling her that? What stopped you from telling her that tonight? What stopped you from telling her that _nine years ago_?"

Blake looked exasperated. "I don't know!" He looked thoughtful. "I guess, pride, the idea she'd be better off without me, that she should think about her career rather than be..."

"What?" Chase probed, leaning on the banister. Blake sat down on the lower steps. "Stuck with me."

Chase threw his hands in the air. "This is what I'm trying to tell you, doofus. You should know her better than that. She doesn't give a damn about her career. For someone bizarre reason, I'm pretty sure she'd actually quite like to be with you," Chase joked lightly. "Come on, Blake. You know she loves you. She wouldn't have come back otherwise."

"She came back for MSA."

"You _are _MSA," Chase smiled. "She came back because MSA was important to her and to _you._"

Blake bit the skin around his thumb. "I told her to go though."

"So un-tell her."

He sat in silence for a while before rising. "I...I wouldn't know how. After all this time, I've..." he paused. "I've left it too long Chase. I've hurt her for a second time. It's unforgiveable."

"Blake, I promise you that you'll regret it," Chase pleaded.

Blake shook his head and began to head up the stairs. "I'll have to live with that."

Chase cried and punched the banister hard, making it shake. Blake stopped on the stairs and looked at him with shock. "Don't be such a _selfish_ coward; it's not just _you_ that has to deal with it. Think of Alex. Think about me." Chase turned and opened the front door, slamming it behind him as he stepped out into the cool night, leaving Blake dumbstruck on the staircase.

*****

Alex rubbed her eyes as she went to the mailbox to get her letters. Flicking through them, there it was. The logo of NYBS stared at her from the envelope, glaring with menacing ferocity. She gulped and decided it would be better to open it inside.

Two hours later, and three phone calls, she had booked her flight, accepted the Directorship, rejected MSA carefully (she hadn't approached them the other night like she'd said for fear of bursting into tears right in front of them) and was beginning to think about packing her things. Alex wrapped her fingers around a mug of coffee and stared blankly at the letter. "We are pleased to inform you..." she murmured. She wished she could say she was pleased to accept.

The doorbell rang, shattering her thoughts. Opening it, she wondered if he noticed her face fall when she saw that it wasn't who she wanted to be at the door. "Chase," she said, trying to smile but only really managing half a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were leaving and I..." he paused. "Just wondered when?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"So you are? Leaving then?"

She crossed her arms and frowned. "On Saturday; why?"

"Well, us students just wanted to get you a little something to say thanks for your help. Needed...to know the deadline," he said, smiling weakly. She could see he was tired; dark lines had appeared under his eyes, which looked like they had seen tears.

"You don't have to..."

"We know," he said, turning around and beginning to walk away. "See ya."

Alex nodded and closed the door to her rented house. She paused for a moment, with her back against the door, before sighing and heading to the bedroom to begin sorting out what she had brought with her. There wasn't much but she wanted to get as far away from Baltimore as she could.

*****

Blake was sitting at the table, flicking through something when Chase stalked into the kitchen, threw a leaflet at him and went back towards the door again. "She leaves Saturday morning," he said blankly. "It's just an idea. I don't really want to have to do _all_ the work for you. But I think you should do _something_," he said snidely, before slamming the door and leaving Blake alone.

Confused, he picked up the piece of paper and scanned it. _What on earth?_


	19. La Boheme

Chapter 19 – La Boheme

Maryland, Ten Years Prior

Alex crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I do not like what you're up to. I rely on the fact that you're not spontaneous and that you like everything to be just so."

Blake smiled faintly and held her glare. "This isn't spontaneous; I've been planning it for months."

"I _hate_ surprises," she said. "You know that."

"You'll like this one," he promised, leaving the room to get something. "The gifts you asked for are in the hall. But I felt like doing something a little more..."

"Invasive?"

"I was going to say special," he retorted with a smirk. "You don't have to come, if you don't want."

Alex uncrossed her arms. "Well, you've intrigued me now." He rolled his eyes. "So fickle." He took her hand. "You look...lovely by the way," he added looking at her for the first time properly.

"That's another thing, Blake Collins," she said, smacking him in the arm, but not so hard it would hurt. He barely felt it. "You're making me wear a _dress_." He looked at it and pulled a puzzled face, although he knew, she _really _hated wearing them outside of dancing. "Where are you taking me?" she hissed, but he shook his head.

"No..." Blake laughed. "You can wait." He leant forward and took her chin in his hand, shaking her face slightly to provoke a reaction. She rolled her eyes and smiled which equated to _you are forgiven_. He bent down to touch his lips to hers but the door to the sitting room opened.

"Blake, Mom says she wants pictures before you go to the o..."

Before eight year old Chase could say any more, Blake had dived forward leaving Alex standing in the middle of the room, eyes glinting with the possibility of Chase betraying the big secret. Blake wrapped his fingers over his little brother's mouth and bent low to his ear. "Remember," he hissed. "It's a _surprise._"

Little Chase's eyes widened and flickered towards his brother, who gave him a meaningful look. A grin burst out from under Blake's fingers. "Yeah," he murmured. "Right. Sorry. Hey Alex."

"Hey Chase," she smiled. He was only eight but growing fast; half Blake's height and already quite stocky from dancing. "Are you going to tell me where I'm heading?"

"Aw, jeez, Alex you know I would," the boy shrugged. "But...Blake promised to teach me how to drive Isabella at the weekend_ and_ buy me a new game for my Sega." Blake nodded and high fived Chase, but on seeing Alex's face he put his hands behind his back and grinned sheepishly. "You'll have to _wait. _I know patience isn't one your strong points, but you'll have to...how do you put it, Alex...it's so eloquent..."

Alex put her tongue in her cheek.

"Oh, of course...'suck it up Collins'. Isn't that what you usually say?" he teased lightly, ushering her towards the door. "So...'suck it up Hale'." She threw him a glare and moved through to the dining room where Frances was armed with a camera.

"_Fine_," she said through a clenched jaw. "You win, this time."

He touched her wrist lightly before she headed to have her photo taken. "You _will _love it. I wouldn't have done it otherwise." She couldn't argue with the sincerity in his eyes so she rolled hers, and smiled.

*****

Present Day

Alex frowned as she pulled out a white envelope from the mail box with only her name written on it; 'Alex Hale'. No address, no stamp, and the unmistakeable scrawl of Blake Collins. Once again, she decided against opening it in the street.

Inside and safely armed with a cup of something warm, she sat down on the couch surrounded by several boxes containing the few things that had made the journey back to Baltimore with her. Alex tore open the envelope to find a hard piece of card, which she recognised instantly as a ticket, and a note. The note intrigued her more; she was desperate to know what he had to say when she was sure he had been abundantly clear the other night. Unfolding it, she scanned the few lines quickly. _Alex, _it read, _I think we still need to talk. You know the place. I hope to see you then. Blake. _No kisses. No subordinate clauses. Just short and to the point. So Blake. Alex sighed deeply and picked up the ticket and turned it over. Groaning inwardly, she closed her eyes. Of course she knew the place.

When she turned eighteen, and when her and Blake had been dating for over a year and a half, he had taken her to the opera; something she had always wanted to do and had never got round to. It had been such a palaver getting her there but he had been so calm and confident – he knew that she would enjoy it when she got to their mystery destination, even though she _detested _surprises and not knowing what was going to happen. When she finally got there, and saw the poster for 'La Boheme' she could have cried. Blake had enjoyed every minute of seeing her squirm.

Of course, their family had a box at the Opera House, but Blake refused to have the seats for free just because his name was Collins. He had worked just as hard to pay for those tickets as he had done with his Mustang and Alex had chided him for it. "I resent you spending so much on me, when your parents could have done it for free," she'd whispered in the dark, but he had only wrapped his hand over hers, letting their fingers intertwine, and remained silent. She'd understood. It was a pride thing, and he certainly never asked them for anything else.

Alex waved the ticket in her hand, looking at the lettering on it. 'La Boheme'. Her favourite opera. One of her favourite love stories. The irony didn't escape her either; two people, obviously in love yet seemingly never able to be together.

However, neither her nor Blake had consumption.

_I hope to see you there, _she read again. Suddenly she felt angry. What could he mean by asking her to go to the same opera that he had taken her to all those years ago? Alex frowned. He had as good as told her to get out of his life for the second time and _now _he wanted to talk? Alex took in a deep breath. She hated this, she _hated _it. After everything...no, no, she wasn't going to put herself through it all again. She was done playing the Blake Collins game. Standing to her feet and continuing to pack some clothes, she tried to ignore it. But the small piece of card started to consume her mind; it lay threateningly on the couch, calling out to her, untouched with its embossed letters shining brightly.

He was good. There were hazards to fighting with someone who used to know you inside and out, Alex thought. She hovered over the ticket before picking it up and checking the date and time again.

Friday evening. This Friday.

She could fit in an opera before she left.

Maybe she _would_ go after all.

Alex swallowed hard and sighed.

Of course she would go.

Who was she kidding?


	20. Rain

Chapter 20 - Rain

"That tie is a disgrace," Andie laughed as Blake bounded downstairs in a black suit looking as if he was about to vomit. "Did you mean for it to look like it was on backwards?"

He looked down with anxious eyes and saw that, indeed, the tie was a completely mess. Pulling at it aggressively, he grimaced. "I...put it on in a hurry," he said quietly, pulling it loose and letting it hang around his collar whilst he fiddled with his cuffs. Andie smiled as she watched him, frowning hard with concentration as he tried to do the button up on one of his sleeves.

"Blake," she said softly. "Relax."

He looked up with a look of exasperation. "I can't Andie! Ok? I'm really..." he stopped and bit his thumb. "What if she says no? What if she decides to leave anyway?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I've left it too late haven't I?"

Andie stepped a little closer and pulled his tie, beginning to loop it round. He sighed. "Thank you," he muttered, looking at his hands. Chase, who had been in the kitchen, reappeared with a glass of orange juice. "Here, buddy," he said, "the drink you asked for." Blake gestured towards the coffee table. "I'll drink it in a moment; thank you Chase."

"What time does it start?" Andie asked delicately.

Blake looked at his watch. "Half seven."

"Well, its quarter to seven now, and you know it's a good half an hour's drive," Chase said, leaning against the back of the couch. "You better get going."

Blake smiled weakly and picked up his orange juice, drinking it in one swift gulp. Andie raised an eyebrow. "It's a shame you don't take anything stronger than the old OJ; you look like you need something stiff to drink."

Blake looked at her disapprovingly. "Not that I would _know_, the...effects of a stiff drink," she added, smiling.

Chase shook his head and took his brother by the shoulders. "Ok, keys?" Blake raised a hand with the Range Rover's keys clasped in his palm. "Ticket?" Chase asked as Blake opened his suit jacket and pulled out the cardboard.

"Excellent. Humble pie?" Chase grinned. Blake rolled his eyes and went to pull away. Chase instead pulled his big brother into a hug, wrapping his arms around him. Blake, stunned, laughed nervously and patted his back gently. "I need to go, Chase," he said awkwardly after a while.

"Yeah, I know," his brother sighed. "Go get her."

Blake closed the door with a smile. "I intend to."

*****

Alex smoothed her black dress and waited in the lobby of the theatre as people milled around her laughing loudly.

7:03 pm.

It started at half past. She subconsciously fiddled with her ticket; running her fingers along it and hitting it against her palm repeatedly. Anxiously, Alex looked around. She didn't see _anyone _she knew, let alone Blake.

The queue for the bar had finally gone down, so joining the line behind a large balding man, Alex waited to buy herself some cold water. She couldn't shake the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

*****

Blake frowned as he saw the traffic slowing and the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle. "Oh no, no, no, not now, not tonight," he murmured to himself as he turned the corner to see that an accident had happened and a large queue of traffic lay ahead of him. Craning his neck, he could see very little but the glare of the headlights that stretched out in front of him. The heavens, which had been threatening to burst all day, rumbled and then rain, light at first, but then bigger, fatter droplets, began to beat down on the cars. Blake flicked the wipers on and turned up the stereo which he'd been listening to. The song was just finishing and a tell-tale jingle that told him a news update was beginning blared into the car. He groaned but listened hard.

"Traffic update for those travelling on the streets of Maryland this evening – a heavy goods truck has veered off the road not far from our beloved ice cream parlour. Those who were planning to use this route are advised to go by the by-lane or another alternative road," a woman crooned.

Blake gritted his teeth. "_Now _you tell me."

"It is unsure as to when the scene of the accident will be completely clear but it is certain that that road will be entirely gridlocked for at _least_ another half an hour."

Blake stopped moving and stared at the stereo. Pulling back his cuff, he looked at his watch. Suddenly, he began to bang his steering wheel. He was thankful that the children in the minivan beside him couldn't hear the stream of profanities that escaped his lips.

****

Alex nearly jumped out of her skin when a porter touched her shoulder gently. "Ma'am," he said kindly, "everyone is going in. The show will begin shortly." She nodded her thanks and allowed him to show her to the theatre. "Sorry, I was miles away," she said quietly.

He nodded politely. "I could see that."

She showed him her ticket and he smiled. "You're in the box ma'am; following me."

Leading her up some steps that were lined with deep red velvet, and trimmed with gold painted skirting boards, Alex felt panicky. Where was Blake? Had he changed his mind?

He was _never _late.

"Were you waiting for someone?" the porter asked looking back at Alex.

"I was..." she started. "I don't think he's coming."

The porter smiled at her again as he lifted the burgundy curtain that closed the box off from the stair-well. "Here you go, enjoy the show," he said kindly before walking off. Alex slipped in and took her seat just as the lights began to dim. The box hadn't changed since she had been in it last; apart from the fact she was completely alone. The view was still good and she would have been able to see the stage clearly if it hadn't been for the veil of hot tears that covered her eyes.


	21. An Empty Theatre

Chapter 21 – An Empty Theatre

Blake charged through the glass doors of the Opera House, soaked to the skin and trying to catch his breath before heading towards the theatre. An usher stood, diligent and motionless like a guard, stood in the way, Blake smiled and tried to push past him. The man laughed. "Sorry sir, but what do you think you're doing?"

Blake swallowed and slipped his hand into his jacket to pull out the slightly damp piece of cardboard." I have a ticket."

"So you may, but the performance is nearly over. It ends in ten minutes."

"Well, I'm determined to enjoy that last ten minutes," Blake said mirthlessly. The usher crossed his arms and frowned. "I can't let you in."

"Look," Blake began, his wet hair dripping into his eyes, and quickly losing patience, "I paid $55 for my ticket..."

"Irrelevant sir, I can't just..."

Blake put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "Please...what's your name?"

"Karl."

"Karl," Blake said, opening his eyes to reveal a pleading look. "Karl, please let me in. In that theatre sits a woman who thinks I have let her down, that I couldn't be bothered to show up. I've been stuck in traffic for nearly two hours. I got _out_ of my Range Rover, which is now parked on the sidewalk a mile back," he pointed out of the glass windows, and Karl followed his finger, "and ran the rest of the way, just so I could do exactly as I planned. It is raining. I am wet and cold. I am wasting valuable time arguing with you when I should be in there, telling the woman I love, that I love her and that she should stay here in Maryland!" Blake raised his voice slightly at the end but sighed. "Please, Karl, my entire happiness depends on my being in the box beside her."

"Box?"

Another porter with a smiling face and kind eyes walked over from the ticket booth, where he had been talking and looked at Blake. "You want to sit in a box?"

"I have a ticket," Blake said wearily. The porter nodded. "I know where you're heading; I took the girl you're talking about to her seat myself." Blake smiled and sighed with relief. "I can go in?"

"I think we can turn a blind eye in the name of love, can't we Karl?" said his friend. Karl shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've not seen anyone Jem."

Jem nodded and motioned for Blake to follow him. "I have an idea, if you're interested."

"I am a desperate man," Blake said pulling off his wet jacket.

*****

Alex didn't notice when Blake slipped into the box and took his seat beside her. The singer on stage was reaching the climax of her song and despite feeling like she was on the verge of bursting into tears, she was enthralled by the woman. It was only when she felt a hand rest on her arm, and she jumped did she see him; he was wet and had his jacket over his arm.

"Alex," he whispered. "I am so sorry. I got stuck in traffic..."

"You've missed the entire show!" she hissed. Someone from a nearby box murmured for them to hush.

Alex swallowed hard and looked back to the stage. Blake leaned towards her. "Alex, can we talk after..."

"Be quiet." She was concentrating so hard on biting her tongue that her jaw hurt from clenching it. "I'm trying to enjoy the opera you bought me a ticket for," she spat, not looking at him. Blake sat back in surprise and began to watch the final few minutes.

The lights came up a few minutes later and the audience, who had been silent, erupted in excited murmurs. Alex felt too stunned to move at first, and Blake showed no intention of moving either. He glanced at her. She was seething quietly; her knuckles were white as she sat with clenched fists and she stared straight ahead at the near empty theatre. She was wearing a simple black dress which only made her look paler. He swallowed hard. Blake knew he was in trouble.

However, a few seconds more and she stood quickly, picking up her small clutch bag and went towards the box's curtain without acknowledging him. Blake was faster and pulled her arm. "Alex," he said, "please, talk to me."

"I don't have anything to say," she said quietly with an exasperated expression. "I don't want to talk. I want to go home."

He sighed, and let her arm drop, his fingers tracing her skin as he did so. "I'm so sorry. I got stuck in awful traffic and your cell-phone was off because of the performance..." he looked at her. "Then I hard to _argue_ my way in to see you. _Everything_ was against me."

"Why are you wet?" she asked frowning, looking at his shirt, the sleeves now rolled to the elbow, and hair which was midway between being wet and dry.

"It's raining outside. Pouring, actually. I parked the car about mile from here and ran the rest of the way." He pinched the skin between his nose and closed his eyes.

Alex opened her mouth to say something but was silenced abruptly as the lights in the theatre dimmed again and they were plunged into near darkness. "What the...I think we should go. They're obviously locking up," Alex said looking around and allowing her eyes to adjust to it, because there were no stage lights to brighten the theatre now. Blake didn't move; instead, he laid his jacket on the back of the chair and folded his arms. "It's ok; they know we're in here."

Alex looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"The porter that let me in; he's giving us half an hour."

"In here?" She paused. "Why?"

Blake gave a faint smile. "Something about our story spoke to him, I guess."

Alex shook her head and went to sit down. Blake followed her with his eyes before going to stand in front of her, leaning against the ledge of the box.

"How is your ankle?" he asked. Alex looked up in surprise to see looking down at her with a fiery look behind his eyes.

"How did you..." she started.

"Andie told me," he said, but seeing her expression, raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry; she kept her promise. She didn't say until after the showcase." He paused. "Besides, I'd seen you limping."

"You _knew_?" she replied in disbelief, anger rising in her voice.

"Could I have talked you out of it?" he pointed out. She looked thoughtful for a moment and then bowed her head as if to admit that he was right. "I think I know you well enough by now," he added quietly.

"Why did you invite me tonight? Why this opera?" she asked bluntly, looking at her fingernails.

Blake looked down at her. "I think you know the answer to that."

"Of course I know. I want to hear it from you," she replied quietly looking up at him, with sad eyes. "Why did you invite me to La Boheme, the night before I'm supposed to be leaving for New York?"

He didn't say anything and Alex, who was beginning to feel tired, sighed and rose from her seat. Blake pushed her down gently with his hand and gave her a look. "Give me a second."

"It shouldn't be this difficult," she hissed.

"And you should know that I don't...articulate myself well when it comes to how I feel," he replied calmly, but with a frown.

"I just need you to say why, Blake, that's all."

"Because," Blake began, feeling the words getting stuck in his throat already, "I...don't want you to go."

Alex was glad the lights were dim as she coloured slightly.

"I've behaved...terribly."

"Yes, you have," Alex admitted. "You really hurt me."

"I know." Blake looked away with a frown. "But for what it's worth, I really thought I was doing to right thing."

Alex stood up and put her elbows on the ledge. "You _thought_ you were doing the right thing nine years ago. We've been through this. You weren't."

"Things change; and you have to admit, New York - don't look at me like that – is a huge opportunity." She had rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth at the mention of the ballet school and he returned it with a reproving glare.

"Besides," he continued, when she said nothing, "I didn't think you'd stick around just for me."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'll admit, that when Matthew and the others asked me to come, it wasn't with a view to..." she paused, biting her lip. "I wasn't looking to start something up...you know...I..." she trailed off, feeling awkward. "But, being here...I..." She shook her head. She seemed to be having as much trouble as speaking her feelings aloud as he was, and that was unusual for her.

"I know."

"I thought you'd probably be settled down with someone."

He shook his head. "No."

Alex looked at him. "No?"

"I haven't dated anyone since MSA." _Since you. _

"Oh," she said quietly. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Alex smiled and looked at him. "You know, I was in London a few years back." He looked surprised. "I saw you at a function...some charity thing. In the Royal Albert Hall."

"Yes, I remember that night. If you saw me, why didn't you say hello?"

Alex shook her head and stood upright. "I don't know. I think I was frightened." Blake frowned. "Because I'm terrifying?" he said sarcastically.

"No. I don't know. I guess because you looked happy, relaxed. And the six foot blonde beside you was a little intimidating."

Blake laughed suddenly, and the sound of it echoed around the theatre. "That was Sandra, a choreographer. She used to be a man." Alex looked at him open mouthed, but then snorted.

"Wow, Alexandra Hale, intimidated by someone," he added in a low voice after they had stopped laughing. "I never thought I'd see the day." She didn't reply.

He looked at his watch and saw their time was coming to a close. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. It was dry now, and would only get soaked again in a few minutes.

"I should go," Alex said seriously. "I have an early flight to catch tomorrow."

Blake stopped and looked at her. "Didn't you listen to a word I said?"

"I heard you say you didn't want me to go. That changes very little."

Blake looked at her angrily. "It should change everything."

"I turned MSA down; I doubt they'll let me back."

"You know Matthew, Margaret and Susan love you!"

"My life is in New York."

"You _hate_ it there. You've said so yourself."

"I've already told New York I'm coming."

"They can replace you easily – _I_ need you here!"

Alex's breath caught in her throat as his words rang like a bell in the empty auditorium. Blake touched her wrist and stepped a little closer. "Please," he almost whispered. "Please, will you stay? With me."

Alex couldn't speak. Instead she turned her head to look away, but Blake took her chin in his hand and brought her gaze back to him. "Alex, whether I meant it or not, I know I was very wrong to tell you to leave...twice," he added with a smile. "But I'm trying desperately to make up for those mistakes by being wholeheartedly honest with you. If you leave me, I won't be able to pick myself up again. I thought I could, I fooled myself into thinking I could but...there isn't anyone else but you." He let his hand fall from her face.

Alex, who felt like her legs were going to buckle, tried to speak but all that came out was a noise halfway between a cry and a laugh.

"Alex?" he pleaded. "Please?"

"I'll..." she hesitated. "...ring Matthew in the morning," she managed. Blake exhaled and grinned broadly, something Alex hadn't seen him do in years. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips gently to her mouth, moving the hand that clasped her wrist to her cheek and drew her in a little closer. She inhaled deeply. His lips were warm; he smelt like the rain and she could feel how damp his shirt was. Feeling that she was moving into the space around him, he kissed her more fiercely, wrapping his free arm around her waist.

A cough wrenched them apart and they both turned to see the porter that had lead Alex in earlier. "I'm sorry, sir, but I must ask you to leave." He smiled and added in a low voice, "Or my boss _will_ kill me." Blake nodded and picked up his jacket.

"Thank you, Jem, was it?"

"Jeremy, yes. And not at all, sir. Anything for a happy ending." Alex smiled weakly. Is that what this was? A happy ending?

She felt Blake's hand touch the small of her back gently and pull her out of her thoughts. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Of course," she smiled. "But isn't it you that has to walk a mile to your car?"


	22. Victory Smarts

Chapter 22 – Victory Smarts

Alex yawned slightly as she helped herself to a cup of coffee, pouring the cream in slowly. It was early morning and after the excitement of the weekend and the celebrations it had boiled down to one thing; decisions. Both Sophie and Chase had been offered good solid places at New York, and also at every other dance school that had come. Andie and Moose had already set their hearts on Washington; Andie was practically there already in her mind.

What would become of them, Alex thought, stirring the hot liquid around in the cup.

A hand on her back snapped her out of her thoughts sharply but she smiled when she felt a warm pair of lips greet her on her cheek. "Good morning," Blake muttered in a low voice, standing beside her to pour himself a cup of something warm.

"Good morning," she smiled back quietly. After the theatre, she had driven him to his Range Rover only to find that the SUV had been clamped and impounded. Blake had argued tirelessly with the man at the car lot until Alex, leaning over the desk, smiled kindly and explained the whole story. Like Jem and Carl, the mechanic (Harry, who had just got back in contact with _his _childhood sweetheart) softened when he heard Alex calmly explain that Blake had ran to the theatre and laughed when Blake told him about the traffic jam. Within in half an hour, Blake was kissing Alex goodnight and tucking himself up safely in the Rover to drive home in.

"Sleep well?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

She shrugged. Truth be told she hadn't; her mind had been working overtime, thinking non-stop about how she was going to turn down New York, whether Matthew and the others would welcome her back after she had already rejected them, all the students and of course, Blake. "I rang Matthew," she said. She saw Blake smile out of the corner of her eye. "So, you know, I guess I'm kind of _around_, now. Permanently," she added turning and leaning against the counter holding her mug. Alex looked at Blake properly for the first time that morning. His hair was slightly fluffy and she suspected he had done very little with it. He had light stubble on his jaw line; she could feel the surprise creeping over her face. Blake was always clean shaven. He glanced at her, matched her smile, and then frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I was just looking at your _nose_," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Has it always been that red?"

He sniffed and looked at her, with crossed arms. "I have a cold," he admitted.

Alex stifled a laugh, which he noticed and frowned at. "It's not _funny_. It's _your_ fault."

"How is it my fault your immune system wasn't...isn't able to cope with a little rain?" she teased.

"A little rain? I think you'll find that it was _torrential_." He sniffed again. "_And _I was soaked to the skin. I haven't felt this awful since I went to watch their dance at the Streets; I felt like death after that too."

"But," Alex smiled, "you still came in."

"Of course; it's decision day," Blake said slightly haughtily, but he saw her face and saw that she was making fun of him. He smiled at his cup of coffee.

"Besides," she continued moving towards the door, "If you'd have got your act together sooner…you wouldn't have had to invite me to the theatre, then you wouldn't have got stuck in traffic, so you wouldn't have had to run in the rain to get there…ergo, you would be without…'pneumonia' was it?"

Blake smirked. "You're hilarious."

"I try." She looked at her watch. "I've got to go call some people; see you at the staff meeting." She turned to leave but felt Blake's fingers grab her wrist. She smiled.

"It's been a while, since I've felt like I can reach out and touch you," he muttered, almost to himself. He still didn't meet her eyes entirely. "And not have you hit me."

She thumped his shoulder. Blake let out a small cry and rubbed where she'd hit him. "Ow," he said frowning.

"For old time's sake; so you didn't feel like this was all too weird," Alex said. Blake shook his head and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers gently, in a long kiss. He smelt delicious and felt warm, and she found immediately that's he didn't mind Blake with stubble at all.

******

Andie was sat in the dance studio, stretching hard when Blake walked in, but she had to double take when she saw he was smiling widely and almost had a spring in his step. Chase looked at her, winked and met her shock with his trademark grin. Looking around Moose and the rest of their class couldn't contain their surprise either. "Good morning everyone," Blake said, taking a deep breath and looking at his clipboard he'd brought with him. "We're not dancing today; I need to discuss where you go from here with you individually." Andie frowned and struggled to shut her open mouth. Even his voice was musical.

"Andrea, is there a reason as to why you're staring at me?" Blake asked with a slight frown. She jolted out of her thoughts, and unable to feign nonchalance, she raised her hands. "It's just, you look…happy?" There was a laugh from the class, and Blake silenced them with a look.

"Ms West, I'm faced with the delightful prospect of palming you all off to other people," he said, looking at his clipboard. "I'm beyond _ecstatic_."

Andie rolled her eyes. Same old Blake, just dancing to a different tune.

*****

Chase pulled his sweater on over his head and looked around the room. Even though the display in the studio earlier had been hilarious, Andie (as she usually was) had been right. Blake had been more content, friendly, jokey, with him in the last forty eight hours than he had been for the last two years. Could Alex really have that effect on him? Blake had told him the whole story of course; the palaver of getting to the theatre, the SUV being impounded but the ultimate happy ending to it all. Chase wondered. He was sure that Alex was the source of it, after all, he'd been with Andie for only a year and he couldn't remember a happier time.

Sophie pushed open the door to the studio after returning from Blake's office with a smug smile. She sat beside Moose and squeezed his hand. "You've chosen New York then?" Chase asked the girl, turning his head over his shoulder to look her in the eyes. "I can't turn it down," Sophie admitted. "It's everything I've worked for and the course is perfect. I'm not a street dancer, I'm ballerina," she admitted.

Chase nodded and smiled. "That's ok; you don't have to explain yourself Soph," he replied and she met his eyes with a grateful look. The door to the studio swung open again and Alex stalked in, smiling at everyone. "Hey," she said softly. "Is Director Collins discussing your options with you?"

"Yeah," they all murmured. She nodded. "So who's going where? Andie, I know you've chosen WSD." The brown haired girl nodded enthusiastically. "Me too," Moose added, examining his hat. "My mom didn't expect me to go for dance but…she's cool with it now." The boy flashed a crooked grin at Andie, who rolled her eyes but smiled. "I guess I'll be stuck with him."

Alex laughed along with the rest of the students, but turned to the blonde haired boy in front of her with a serious expression. "And Chase? Where are you going?" She had worried the most about Chase. He shrugged. "I'm gonna talk it over with my bro," he replied. "Both schools will be good for me; it's just…" he trailed off and shrugged again as a way of an explanation. Alex nodded. She understood.

Monster opened the door and walked in, raised his hands and whooped "Wash-ing-ton!" in three long and low hoots. His fellow WSD goers clapped and joined in his chant. The boy was followed by Blake, who looked tired now and Alex stifled a smile as he stood beside her and sniffed. "Shut up," he whispered although he was masked by the hubbub of the students.

"Ok, I've spoken to everyone but Chase," he called out over them. His voice echoed around the studio. "But, obviously, we can talk at home. It's almost two. You guys can leave early today."

The students cheered loudly, a few "Alrights!" and "Yeahs!" could be heard in the commotion. Alex and Blake walked out with them; Blake shaking hands with them and congratulating them all as he did so. When they were in the corridor, they mumbled goodbyes and the students went one way, the teachers the other.

"Alex!" someone called out; both groups stopped, and Alex, recognising the drawl, gritted her teeth. The voice was Brett's; calling from one end of the corridor, to where the students were heading. "Brett," she hissed. "Why are you here?"

He looked bitter; his usual leer gone and replaced by a mask of outrage. "I'm here to convince you that you're a damn idiot," he said, pushing through the crowd of students and standing before Alex and Blake. Blake himself had stepped forward and let Alex move behind him.

"Oh _really_," she said, putting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"You have an awesome opportunity being placed right before you and you're staying here? For what?" The blonde haired man raised his arms and looked around with a look of disgust.

"Because I want to?"

"Is it because of _him_?" Brett laughed, pointing at Blake. The air got tense as Blake clenched his fists but still couldn't find his voice to defend himself.

"Yes and no," Alex said, "but I can't see how any of that is your business. Go home Brett," she added. "You really thought coming here and screaming abuse at me was going to change my mind?

"Yes," Brett continued. "You're really gonna stay here and co-direct this institute for wasters?" Blake felt his blood boil. "Yeah, MSA was great, _once_, back in the day. But everyone knows that now you take in anyone and _anything_," he sneered, looking at Andie and Moose, "and it's a joke. The entire dancing world is laughing at the pair of you." Alex opened her mouth, stunned. The students looked outraged. "And as for him," he added, gesturing to Blake once more. "Washout. Waste of time. He's not enough for you. Whereas you _could_ be at New York with someone like…"

He never got to finish his suggestion because Blake, who was almost shaking with rage, raised one of his clenched fists and pulled it back to hit him. Brett didn't see it coming until it was too late. A punch carrying all the force of the emotions Blake was feeling, landed hard on Brett's face. The shock and power of the punch took the Southern by surprise; staggering, he fell backwards, landing in a crumpled heap at the feet of the final years. Alex stood staring at Blake with a face of utter horror. "You hit him?" she managed to say, but Blake ignored her and stood over the man.

"Get out of my school," he said simply, in a low and menacing voice. Brett's lip was cut and beginning to swell. He didn't move. Blake crouched down beside him.

"My students," Blake hissed, "are far more talented than anyone that comes out from under your tutorage will ever be. Some of them even got places at your precious school. So if they're that _awful,_ why did you let them in? Brett began to stutter something, but Blake flashed him a steely glare. "Do the decent thing for the next generation of dancers; quit. Get another job. Leave NYBS. Because if you can't see raw talent in the roughest of subjects," he glanced at Andie, "then there is no hope for you. It's a lesson I had to learn. I was wrong at first, and I'm not ashamed to admit that."

Brett looked at Blake with a face filled with utter contempt, but Blake merely smirked. "As for Alex, well, she's made her choice." He got close to his face. "Take a hint," he whispered.

The student students began to whoop and Blake rose, stepped over Brett and moved away. Alex followed him, still speechless. Chase looked at Brett finally and grinned. "I don't know if I will be coming in the fall," he shrugged. "Thanks anyway."

Brett touched his lip, felt blood and winced. A few moments later he rose gingerly and left MSA for New York.

The students were following their Director, talking animatedly, and reliving it with great fervour already. Blake was still seething. "Alright, alright," he said finally, shutting his eyes. "That's enough, leave me _alone_." They smiled and slapped him on the back; the girls watched him with new respect, especially Andie who'd never heard him admit he'd been wrong about her and Moose. She'd kind of taken his letting her back in as an acceptance.

Alex turned to leave with them, but Blake grabbed her arm as he had done before and pulled her back. "Not you," he murmured.

"He just knocked him flat, like he was nothing!" Moose whispered loudly to the others as they moved away.

Blake waited and then shook his hand, grimacing. "Ow," he said softly. "They don't tell you that it hurts when you hit someone in the movies," he cringed, examining his knuckles. Alex smiled and took his hand gently. "I cannot _believe_ you did that," she said breathing out deeply.

"I know," he admitted. "A little uncharacteristic, wasn't it?"

"Uncharacteristic? Blake, I don't think I've ever seen you kill a spider."

"Well," Blake said, intertwining their fingers and walking with her slowly. The bell was about to go and soon students would be pouring out of classrooms to leave for their summer vacation. He smiled warmly, and lifted her hand to his lips. "I like spiders. I don't like Brett Crossley."

************************************************************************************************

**The End**

R&R as usual and let me know what you think. Go on, the review button's not wired. 


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